How To Beat Near & Take Over The World in 13 Days
by Cyri's Alter Ego
Summary: "This is a series of important notes that I want to leave behind. In case I die or something. Yeah. 'Cause trust me, this is gonna be the most important damn thing you've ever read in your life. Ready? Grab a seat or something. ...This is how to beat Near." Rated for swearing, and lots of it. These are teenage males, here.
1. Method 1: Post him to Israel

_Mello as a teenager is possibly one of the funniest things I have ever written a point of view from. And I have written a story from the point of view of a three-legged cat, so that is saying something. His outlook on the world is just so skewed :D_

_As usual, this is the worst time possible for me to be starting a new multi-chapter fic. Ah well. I've just got used to the fact that that's when the plot bunnies want to bite me._

_I don't own anything, don't hit me._

* * *

Okay. This is me. Mello. Writing.

I know, right?

There's a big story behind this, I promise you. I didn't just start writing for the hell of it. It's not like this is a diary or something. I'm not a girl. And don't ask Matt for confirmation of that, because he won't tell you the truth. It's not _my_ fault I have such an exquisite figure.

Jealous bitch.

But anyway, like I was saying. This is not a diary. This is a series of important notes that I want to leave behind. In case I die or something. Yeah. 'Cause trust me, this is gonna be the most important damn thing you've ever read in your life.

Ready? Grab a seat or something.

...This is how to beat Near.

Just a little FYI...

I HATE NEAR.

Like, I HATE NEAR.

Like... I _really_ HATE NEAR.

I hate Near so much that I'm not even gonna refer to him as 'Near' anymore. He doesn't deserve that privilige in my beautiful shiny book of notes chronicalling the awesomeness of me. Instead, I shall refer to him as... 'gnat'. Yeah. Gnat.

Back on topic, this book will carefully document the various methods I shall use to get rid of the gnat once and for all. And why, I hear you cry, why do I want to dispose of the gnat? If that's what you're thinking, obviously you haven't been listening properly.

I HATE HIM.

Aside from that, though, there is a very serious reason why I must quickly remove the gnat from life... or, at least, from the number one spot. And that reason is this: in thirteen days, L is coming to Wammy's. It's just a casual drop-in, we've been assured. Nothing to be worried about. Like a visit from a friend, Roger told us. Pfft. As if he knows about that. His total friend count is less than one.

Anyhow...

THIS IS INCREDIBLY SIGNIFICANT. IF L SEES ME AT NUMBER TWO, HE'LL NEVER TAKE ME SERIOUSLY AGAIN AND MY LIFE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE OVER AND L WOULD HATE ME AND I'D BE THAT PATHETIC KID WHO DOES NOTHING BUT SIT IN THE CORNER EATING AND GETTING FAT-

So you see? This time, it's on. It's serious. That gnat's not gonna know what hit him. 'Cause I'm gon' be so goddamn smart that...

Well, yeah, I can't actually think of a consequence. Maybe he'll explode or something. That would be fucking awesome. If messy.

...Matt's started reading over my shoulder, and he's being a bitch, yet again. Yeah, so I've been stuck at number two for who knows how many years. Yeah, this is maybe my eleventh or twelfth attempt to murder/kill Near (yeah, I know they mean the same thing, okay? Give the genius some leeway here), and they've never been successful. But this time... I'm going to carefully record all methods used as my life's work. Like... like those autobiographies that only get published after the author's death. Then I will be praised. PRAISED, I TELL YOU, PRAISED.

So read carefully. 'Cause one day, if I don't succeed, you're gonna need this information. If I die in this process, you're _really_ gonna need this information, 'cause the gnat's always gonna be an interfering bastard, and then you're gonna feel my pain when he inteferes with _you_, and then you're gonna thank me for writing this all down.

I entrust this to you, reader. Unless you're the gnat himself, in which case, how the _fuck_ did you get hold of this, you creep? You think it's normal to sneak around in people's underwear drawers, huh?

Back to my point... I shall show you how to beat Near and take over the world in thirteen days.

(Footnote: If you are presently wondering who this 'L' is... then get the fuck out of my room. And my life. And the universe. And blow yourself up on some strange little planet that nobody can reach. Otherwise, I might just have to kill you with this fork, my pillowcase, a large telephone, and a jar of pasta sauce.)

* * *

**13 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #1  
****Post him to Israel**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

As it turns out, you cannot buy envelopes larger than eleven by fifteen inches at the post office. This is absolutely ridiculous. I spent about twenty-five minutes explaining quite patiently to the clerk at the counter that however much of a midget Near may be, there was no way he was gonna fit in an envelope that size. He, in return, was quite rude. There was really no need to call security (I didn't even know they _had _security at a post office) and drag me out by force. I only smashed _three_ possibly-valuable things (again, how valuable can they be in a _post office_?), and obviously he wasn't man enough to take a punch if he got one.

But anyway, after that unnecessary behaviour, I was still envelope-less, so I decided to make one for myself. Couldn't be so hard, right? I mean, envelopes are basically paper and that sticky stuff you lick at the top.

First, though, before I could do any envelope-construction, I had to figure out what sort of size I was going for. So I nicked Roger's tapemeasure and a pen and started trying to measure the gnat.

I asked my partner-in-crime Matt to help me on this highly important endeavour. He said, "I can't get involved in your daily insanity right now, Mels, I've almost beaten the Johto League. Lance is a bitch."

My 'daily insanity'? Charming.

Looks like Agent Mello will have to go it alone this time.

Okay. So when you measure people, you always stand them against the wall and mark the spot on the wall where they finish, right? So when I found Near, shuffling along in his weird little way with a bag of books on his back (nerd) that is precisely what I did.

"Stand against the wall."

"...Excuse me?"

"Stand against the wall."

"I don't quite understand."

My nostrils flared. "Stand. Against. The fucking. Wall!"

Near gave me his creepy blank look. For a genius, he's really fucking thick. Reasonably irritated by this time (don't know if you've noticed, but I've got a pretty short fuse), I repeated my request, got nothing, and so just gave up and shoved him into the brickwork.

The little twit-head'd be useless in any sort of fight situation. He completely froze up. Didn't even struggle. I held his shoulders in place with one arm while I got the cap off the pen, but just as I was leaning past him to mark the wall, I heard a squeal.

"_Oh my God_! Oh my God, Mello, what are you doing?"

Annoyed, I whirled around. Little surprise, it was the human aggravation that is Linda. I won't say much in the way of introducing her, but she is a girl and she thinks that _she _is going to be L because her name begins with L. That is all.

While I was distracted, Near took the opportunity to run for it. What a mouse - although, I have to say, the way he runs is _hilarious_.

"What are you on about?" I snapped at Linda. "Look what you did! He got away!"

Linda's eyes went all wide, and she clapped her hands to her mouth. "Eww!" she wailed in a slightly muffled voice, and then she, too, ran for it. What can I say? I'm a terrifying individual.

However, it was only then that I realised how... um... _comprimising_... the position Near and I were in may have looked at that particular moment if you were looking at us in a certain way with an extremely twisted mind and no sense of the personalities of the two people in the position.

I'll be blunt: it looked like I was molesting the kid.

...I think I want to throw up.

Did I mention that Linda's also the biggest loudmouth in the _entire_ of Wammy's?

Now the whole orphanage thinks I want to screw a gnat.

Fuck. My. Life.

**Attempt #2**

After Matt spent thirty-seven minutes and eighteen seconds (yes, I counted - shoot me) pissing himself laughing at my issues involving Linda and the gnat, he finally calmed down enough to inform my that I could have just stolen Near's measurements from Roger's office.

Once again.

Fuck. My. Life.

See, this is why I need someone running around behind me telling me important things like this. Namely, Matt, who, at this moment, has begun laughing again. Maybe I don't need him so much after all.

Breaking into Roger's office is child's play for me. Actually, it is for everyone at Wammy's, considering our status as genii. I'm just the only one who ever bothers to go through with it. I sometimes wonder if Roger misses any of the stuff I borrow. And yes, I do _borrow_ it - how dare you question the awesome truth-telling of Mello? It has always been my intention to return every one of Roger's possessions to him, it's just... uh, yeah.

Anywho, so I broke into Roger's office like a boss (_without _Matt, who, until I have deigned to grant him forgiveness, will be known as The Bitch. He gets capital letters because I like him marginally more than the gnat). I'm such a ninja. The documents concerning all of us kiddiwinks are in the second drawer in Roger's desk. He thinks he's impenetrable because he locks it, but the key's on the fucking windowsill.

I sometimes wonder why he tries.

Near's documents happen to be next to mine and Matt's, as we have the great joy of being the letter next to his.

NAME: Classified (I don't even know why they bother with that. _Everyone's_ name is classified. Or maybe everybody's real name is, in actual fact, 'Classified'... That'd put an interesting spin on things.)

KNOWN AS: Near (I was tempted to scribble this out and put 'gnat', but a good ninja never leaves traces.)

GENDER: Male (Debatable.)

DATE OF BIRTH: August 24th 1991

OCCUPATION: Detective (No shit. It's a wonder they don't put 'SPECIES: Human'. Then again, that might be a little embarrassing, 'cause I'm convinced Near is actually an alien.)

HEIGHT: 5"

Aha. That's the one I'm after. Jeez, he really is tiny. I'm a whole seven inches taller than him. Well, that'll save paper, anyway. Yup, rescuing the planet, that's me.

I was just going to casually stroll out when something very unexpected happened.

Roger walked in.

Whoa. That's never happened before.

"Mello?" he said. Bless him, he looked surprised. "What are you doing here?"

I went for the truth. "Rifling through your paperwork."

Roger looked at me, looked at the paper I was holding, and gave a long, heavy sigh that made his face sag in a very amusing way. I'll definitely be imitating that one later. Then he drew up a chair and said, "Sit down, Mello."

Oh, God.

'Sit down, Mello' is a phrase I've heard Roger use about ten million times before. He always says it in this slow, grave voice, and it's always followed by a long, serious, deeply boring monologue about how he wishes I'd behave better. 'I don't know what to do with you, Mello' is one other such frequently overused Roger-phrase, and 'Mello, I wish you'd put that intelligence of yours to better use' is another one of his favourites. Not forgetting 'Mello, put down the knife', of course.

Huh. Basically, I'm so smart that he doesn't want to punish me properly in case it stifles the creative juices, or some crap like that.

"Mello," he said this time, prising Near's papers out of my hands and gesturing towards the chair. I sat, 'cause I'm that obedient. "I've been wanting to have a chat with you about... certain things that have arisen today regarding you and Near..."

Oh, for God's sake. If he starts this, I'm gonna strangle something.

"There have been several rumours circulating about how you... may have attempted some form of intimacy with Near in the corridors, which he resisted. Now, Mello, I just want to let you know that there is nothing wrong with having these feelings for people of the same gender - I realise that your faith may try to lead you to believe otherwise, but forgive me for saying that on this count, those teachings are wrong. However, what is more wrong than anything is trying to force others into performing acts that they have no desire to; that is..."

Yadda yadda yadda. I was sort of asleep by this time, somewhere between amused and bored. What was most funny about this particular 'chat' of Roger's was the fact that everyone at Wammy's was already one hundred percent aware that I'm gay. I thought even Roger knew. I'm that damn obvious. I mean, I _dye_ and _condition_ my hair. And clearly he has not noticed that I walk around _wearing nail varnish_. Does that not scream 'gay'? I thought so. Apparantly not.

I was still kind of grossed out that he thought I wanted to be gay with _Near_, but still.

Speaking of Near, I had more important things to be getting on with. Envelopes don't make themselves.

"Mello- where are you going?" Roger said, startled, as I got up.

"Back to my room, probably," I answered. "Sorry, Roger - actually, that's a lie, I'm not sorry at all - but I already know I'm fucking gay, I didn't molest Near, and quite frankly I could molest a goat, and it would be more pleasurable than molesting him."

I left.

Poor granddad gets no respect.

**Attempt #3**

There was no way Matt was getting out of helping me with this one. Not if he wishes to continue living in close proximity to me. His excuse this time was "I've got to study.", which, if you know even a micro-molecule of Matt's personality, is the most pathetic reason for _not_ wanting to help me constuct a giant envelope ever concieved. Jeez. Anyone would think it was a weird thing to do.

The _real_ reason, of course, is that Matt is just a _tad_ lazy.

...Understatement of the fucking century.

I told Matt this, and then I snapped his DS in half. Now he is lying on the floor of our (as it stands) shared bedroom (after I pulled him off his bed by the leg), refusing to get up until "you fix my fucking DS, bastard!" I don't know what his problem is. I did the bitch a favour. His concentration'll skyrocket now he hasn't got that thing bleeping away in his ear.

Although, while I remain here, an excellent distraction still exists.

Clearly, Matt doesn't agree.

"For fuck's sake, I'll fix it after we make the envelope." I rolled my eyes.

It's all lies. That thing is smashed up beyond even my genius skills.

Matt gave me a look like he didn't believe me, narrowed his eyes, and then - huzzah! - got up. "I hope you know that I am one of those goddamn awesome friends that you'll find nowhere else," he informed me.

I squealed and hugged him (I think he stopped breathing, I squeezed him so tight). "Of course you are, Matty! Thank you! You're my bestest friend in the whole wide world!"

...And Roger thought I wasn't gay.

As I suspected, envelopes are not all too difficult to construct. Especially when you have a slave. I mean a Matt.

ME: Fetch me some paper!

MATT: Get it yourself!

ME: Fetch me the paper, slave!

MATT: Gah-! Get off me!

ME: Fetch the paper or you're going in the cupboard!

MATT: Gwah! M-mmfh-! Let go- *sounds of general pain*

ME: PAPER!

MATT: Fine, I'll get you your bloody paper!

ME: Five feet of it, please~

Needless to say, Matt spent the majority of the session calling me a bitch under his breath. It's nothing I don't already know. I'm quite proud of my bitchiness, thank you.

Anyway, it wasn't long before we (yes, _we_) had finished. It was quite a work of art, actually. We used double-sided sellotape for the sticky bit at the top and decided to hope nobody tried to lick it. I addressed it ("ISRAEL. Please do not return.") and stood back to admire my work.

Only problem was that it was huge. Five feet doesn't sound like much when you're talking about a human (slash gnat), but when you're trying to subtly move a five-foot envelope across a busy orphanage, it's a whole different story. People kept giving us "WTF" looks. I glared at them. Matt hid behind his goggles.

"What about my DS?" he kept whining.

"I'll fix it later," I assured him. What I meant, of course, was that I would nick his money and buy a new one.

Hmm. Does that make me a bad friend? Breaking one of my best friend's most valued possesions, and then stealing from him to make up for it, when I had promised him that I would fix it myself...?

Yeah, I guess that does make me a pretty bad friend.

...I'll steal the money from Roger, instead.

Eventually, we reached Near's room. Holding the envelope with one hand, I peered into the door (which was very helpfully ajar - thank you, cleaning ladies) like a ninja, affirmed from my burning eyes and gagging reflex that I had seen the gnat's face, and got ready to charge.

"Ready, Matt?" I whispered.

"Uh, you haven't told me what you're going to do, but if it's what I think it is, then-"

I had got bored of listening to him speak, so; "AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHH!"

A fierce five minutes of tussling ensued, in which I attempted to tie Near up, Near's room became as trashed as I could possibly make it, and, worst of all, the envelope got ripped. Matt, to his credit, tried to help me stuff the five feet of gnat into the envelope, once he had gotten over his initial bemusement.

But it was all in vain, because as soon as I took my hand away from his mouth, Near shrieked for Roger.

He's such a snitch. But, jeez, for a midget, he's certainly got a pair of lungs on him.

Now I'm in the Quiet Room by myself (I took the bullet for Matt and said it was all my idea - am I an incredible friend, or am I an incredible friend?). I'm supposed to be 'reflecting on what I've done'. Mind you... Roger said something about "I told you molesting was wrong!" before he locked the door.

...Oh, shit. This will not go down well on the "Mello's a gang-raping pervert!" front.

Fuck the Quiet Room. I'm gonna make as much noise AS FUCKING POSSIBLE.

Until tomorrow, loyal conquesters.


	2. Method 2: Give him amnesia

_Hmm... study for the chemistry exam that I have today... or write a fanfic that amuses me...? ...Hooray for disregarding the education system! Nyaa, I'm just very happy, because I'm cosplaying as Matt in July (me and my friends are going as Mello, Matt, Near, and L, it's gonna be FREAKIN' AWESOME) and my jacket just turned up, so my costume is complete. Ah, good times._

_Awesome response was awesome. You guys all rule :3 Thank you Souret, Stranger To Modern, TheDeathAssistant4, can't-reach-beer, and CountessIsobel! Oh, and all those people who told me they would hunt me down if this became Mello/Near (yes, there was actually more than one person who threatened that), clearly you haven't been listening. HE HATES HIM :P Also, I don't ship Mello/Near, so I assume we're safe..._

_I don't own anything. Reviews are love. Review, or Mello won't be able to finish this documentation of his life's work, and then the gnat will come and get youuuuu... and no one wants that._

* * *

**12 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #2  
****Give him amnesia**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

I am sitting outside Near's window with a pair of binoculars and several bars of chocolate. This tree really is very convenient.

Near has been working on a completely pointless, idiotic puzzle of quite literally nothing (the thing is PLAIN WHITE) for the last seven minutes. I am making a note of this while I wait for my paintball gun to load up. This morning, I made a few minor alterations to it concerning the speed and power with which it attacks things. Things like... gnats. For example.

...Run, bitch, run.

After the Quiet Room incident yesterday, I was forced to conclude that I needed a new way to get the gnat out of my life. There was no way I was going through the stress of making another giant envelope. I thought for a while, and then my genius brain came up with the perfect plan. This one is _totally_ gonna work.

You can't be a genius if you don't remember that you're a genius. So it's quite simple: I have to give him amnesia.

Then who'll be number one? Mello'll be number one, bitches.

I was just aiming my paintball gun at the gnat's larger-than-average head (for the record, that doesn't mean he's got a bigger brain) when I heard a confused voice from below me.

"Mello, what are you doing?"

It was Matt. I was surprised - he had voluntarily ventured outside our room? What was the world coming to? Nevertheless, I pressed a finger to my lips and made a frantic-flaily-hand-gesture thing that meant 'Get in my tree'. In a non-sexual way.

Matt looked at the paintball gun, then at the window, and he pulled the sort of expression that meant, 'Great, Mello's gone mental again and I have to put up with it.' That face. I get that face a lot. "Mello-"

"Get in my tree and shut up!" I hissed. The window was ajar. I didn't want the gnat hearing me. Actually, that last sentence could have stopped after the word 'gnat', but that's not the issue at hand here.

"But you-"

"Are you going to be a good friend?" I demanded. This was my favourite coercing technique of the day - because I'm that amazing, I'd already replaced Matt's DS, and that obviously made me the better person. He wasn't exactly grateful though. ("It's pink! _It's fucking pink_!" "What's wrong with pink?")

Anyhow, Matt rolled his eyes at me and then hauled himself into the tree. It looked like it was taking effort. The kid's so unfit. But the sight of him clinging to a branch with both arms and legs wrapped around it was kind of cute, so I didn't mind.

After a while, he offered up, "...I'm stuck."

"Don't be stupid. You're close enough, anyway." His branch was only the one down from mine. The difference was that I was straddling the branch like a manly man, and he looked more like a baby sloth. An adorable baby sloth, but nonetheless a baby sloth. With red hair and bug eyes.

Matt went a bit quiet. "Mello?"

"What?"

"...I don't like heights."

"I don't like your face, but I have to look at it every day."

"I'm serious." I looked at Matt, and he had gone weirdly white. "I... I don't like... heights..." He bit down on his lip, hard, and that was when I knew I was seeing warning signs.

You see, I have a ferocious temper, but mine is very predictable. I won't deny that my mood swings are kinda-sorta-maybe-slightly violent, but at least everyone knows they're coming.

Matt is different.

Most of the time he's so chill he might as well be dead, but sometimes, sometimes when something really freaks him out, he'll become a monster.

I swear he's got a duplicate personality.

"Okay." I kept my voice calm. "Okay, Matt, take it easy. Want some chocolate?"

Too late.

"...I DON'T LIKE FUCKING HEIGHTS! GET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING TREE! SHIT, IT'S SO FAR TO THE GROUND, MELLO! GET ME OUT! GET ME THE FUCK OUT! THIS IS FUCKING TERRIFYING! YOU'VE GONE TO FAR THIS TIME! I'M FUCKING GONNA BE FUCKING STUCK UP HERE FOR-FUCKING-EVER! LOOK AT THE WAY THE GROUND'S JUST FUCKING MOCKING ME WITH ITS FAR-AWAY-NESS! THIS TREE'S SUCH A BASTARD, WHY DID IT HAVE TO GROW SO MUCH- AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"

Ah, shit. He was going so nuts that he's just fallen out of the tree. And now the gnat's turned around and is staring at me through his window. Shit.

Well, I might as well go through with it now that I'm here. After all, if he's lost his memory, he's not exactly gonna remember being shot in the head, right?

I pulled the trigger on my paintball gun.

Unfortunately, I had not accounted for the window. Paint exploded onto the glass in a lovely pretty abstract-art-type way, and the gnat was left completely untouched.

...FML.

"_Run, Matt_!" I screeched, leaping out of the tree and making a dash for it. I could see the Quiet Room coming back to haunt me, and that is the last place I want to go again, thank you. "THE AUTHORITIES ARE COMING!"

Matt followed at a run. He had stopped screaming, but was still quite white and looking dazed. "_What_?"

"BACK TO OUR ROOM!" I yelled, pointing crazily like I was a superhero. Actually, I think I probably am a superhero. I'd be the best superhero ever. Super-Mello, coming to save the day.

Uh, actually, maybe I'd rather just save myself.

"What makes you think that they _won't _chase us in there!" Matt cried, exasperated and wheezing. Like I said before; unfit. I'm making no allowances for the fact that he just fell out of a tree.

Bitch had a good point though. "Uh... uh..." What would make them not dare to come in? What would stop Roger and a gnat? What would- aha! "WE'LL PRETEND TO BE HAVING SEX!"

"YOU _WHAT_?"

"I'M A FUCKING GENIUS!"

"YOU'RE FUCKING INSANE!"

"SILENCE! YOU HAVE NO BRAIN CELLS TO SPEAK OF!"

"THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT WAY TO SEDUCE SOMEONE, Y'KNOW!"

"PRETEND TO HAVE SEX WITH ME, BITCH! IT'S WHAT A REAL FRIEND WOULD DO!"

"WHY ARE WE YELLING?"

I stopped. We had stopped running a while ago - not quite sure when _that_ had happened - and were now just having a shouting match in the middle of the courtyard. Several other kids were leaning out of their windows to see what was going on, the famous "WTF" looks firmly glued on their faces. I don't know what their problem was. It wasn't like we were talking about _actually_ having sex. _They_ were being weirder than we were, to be fair. Hadn't their parents told them it was rude to stare?

Oh, wait.

We're orphans.

Awkward times.

Matt glanced back at Near's room. The gnat had shut his window tight, but otherwise was making no attempt to chase us. "...Mels, you know how you said 'the authorities are coming'...?"

"Shut up."

**Attempt #2**

After a quick lunch break, it was time to try again. The Illustrious Mello doesn't give up that easily (as I told Matt through a large mouthful of chocolate).

I may have sprayed him with chocolatey saliva, but that was no reason for him to run away while I was binning seven chocolate bar wrappers. Bitch.

Okay. So the paintball gun hadn't worked. Anyway, Roger had confiscated it, and although I could sneak into his office and reclaim my property, I like to keep the amount of surprise 'chats' I have with Roger at the lowest possible number. It's better for everyone's blood pressure.

But, as they say, there's more than one way to skin a cat. Although... I'm not entirely sure why anyone would want to skin a cat. Not unless they had horribly impaired vision and were one of those people who hates wearing glasses so much that they willingly blind themselves... and then get a desire to skin something.

Maybe I'll rephrase. There's more than one way to give a gnat amnesia.

The day got quite interesting after that. It's always amusing having an excuse to hit Near, all questing aside. In two hours, I:

1. Punched him on his way out of physics

2. Pulled his chair out from underneath him so that he cracked his head on the desk behind

3. Pushed him down the stairs

4. Slammed a door into his face

5. Threw several plates at his head

6. Walked into him on purpose

7. Made him trip over me and fall on his face

8. Smashed a wooden board over his head

and, 9. Stuffed his pillow full of hardback books so he'll hit his head when he goes to bed.

I am quite skilled.

But what was annoying was the fact that things kept getting in the way when I was carrying out my plans. Of course, I had dragged Matt along for some of them (all of his rudeness and general bitchiness aside, he is nonetheless my loyal slave/accomplice/chocolate collector), and he suggested that maybe I was just stupid. I responded by whacking him.

Much as it pains me to describe my own inconveniences, 'cause I'm awesome, I will tell you, reader, what went wrong. Then you won't make the same mistakes when it's your turn to deal with the gnat.

Not that I made mistakes. I am Mello. 'Failing Mello' is practically an oxymoron.

Matt just commented that 'successful Mello' is more of a contradiction of terms.

He's on the floor now, and probably won't be getting up for a while.

Anyway.

1. _Punched him on his way out of physics._  
In my defense, there were a lot of people in that corridor. I sort of hit Near as my fist swung on by, but I overshot a little and... yeah, Matt ended up out cold.

2. _Pulled his chair out from underneath him so that he cracked his head on the desk behind._  
I pulled the chair out from under him, but Matt, who was sitting behind, happened to shift his desk at that particular moment so his Game Boy would be less noticeable, and the gnat's head missed by a margin. He just sort of sat down heavily.

3. _Pushed him down the stairs._  
After the gnat toppled down a flight of stairs, he crashed headlong into the person at the bottom of the stairs (it was Matt) and the two of them ended up in a heap on the ground, both of them reasonably irritated but not really very hurt.

4. _Slammed a door into his face._  
This actually kind of worked. And by 'kind of worked', I mean that Matt was standing in the doorway at the same moment, and the slamming door ripped out a great big chunk of Matty-hair while Near was hit on the forehead. It would have been hilarious if Matt hadn't been in so much pain. ...No, I'm lying, it was fucking priceless.

5. _Threw several plates at his head._  
I thought I had better aim than that. Well, Matt shouldn't have gotten in the way of the flying plates, then, should he?

6. _Walked into him on purpose._  
I walked into the gnat in the middle of a busy corridor and managed to tread on quite a few peoples' feet in the process. ("Fuck, Mello, you're wearing _boots_!" "Shh, Matt, can't you see I'm in the middle of something?")

7. _Made him trip over me and fall on his face._  
Well, he _would_ have tripped over me, had _Matt_ not been sitting _right in front of me_ when the gnat walked past. He walked around me instead and gave me a look. A look of Nearish evil that pretty much sent me into hysterics 'cause it was such a pathetic attempt at being tough.

8. _Smashed a wooden board over his head._  
Uh. Yeah... My only excuse for this one is... um. Would anyone say that Matt and Near look similar from behind...? No?

I am still yet to see what transpires with regards to my ninth point.

Hmm. I'm seeing a bit of a pattern here. The 'thing' that always seems to be getting in the way... is Matt.

Suspicious.

Damn, is he doing this on purpose? Is he setting me up to fail? Does he _want_ L to think I'm an idiot? He's a terrible friend. And to think, I spent Roger's money instead of his!

...Roger just came into our room (without knocking, which was very rude) and saw Matt lying on the ground.

Er.

The awkward moment when Matt gets rushed to hospital with concussion.


	3. Method 3: Bribe him

_Uh... yeah. I sincerely apologise for the serious beating Matt got last chapter... T_T I love Matt too. He just got in the way! Maybe this will make up for it, a little bit...? Mello trying not to be violent (shock horror) and trying not to injure his friends :P_

_Reviews make me love you! So thank you, Carottal, Citrine Nebulae, EAP (if you want a gnat-hug anyway, go ahead :P Mello would call you insane, but go for it!), TheCliqueFan, anon, and trumpee! And, as usual, I own nothing..._

* * *

**11 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #3  
****Bribe him**

* * *

Matt's out of hospital.

Turns out, he only had a mild concussion, so he's been sent home and and he hasn't lost his memory or anything. He's just gonna have a headache for a while.

Man... I actually feel quite bad.

So that night, I crawled into his bed.

...Not for _that_ purpose, you sick people. I don't _always _have to have an ulterior motive, y'know.

"Matty?"

He froze. "Mello, is that y-?"

"Yeah."

He went all quiet. "...What?"

His bed was warm. I rolled onto my side and found his hand in the darkness. "Sorry."

He looked at me suspiciously in what little light there was. Seeing him with no goggles was strange, as always. I forget that he has eyes like a normal human. "Are you gonna kill me now?" he asked.

"No, why?"

"You said something _nice_."

"I'm allowed to say nice things!"

"Mmm, right. It's strange."

"Matty." I squeezed his hand between both of mine. "I really am sorry, y'know?"

"Yeah. 'S okay. Maybe I'll punch you in the head one of these days." He grinned briefly, and squeezed my hand back. Not gonna lie, the returned pressure felt kind of nice. "Love ya, Mels."

"Love ya, Matty."

We lay like that for several moments. Then Matt cleared his throat. "Y'know... Mels... this is kinda gay."

"Well, unless you hadn't noticed, _I'm_ kinda gay, so shut the fuck up and enjoy it."

Matt went quiet again.

"Uh, Mels... do you really want to, uh... do the nasties with Near?"

I flinched. "Fuck no."

Some of the tension in Matt's hand relaxed, and he turned his face into the pillow, and mumbled something that might have been, "Good."

Aww.

...Wait, why am I writing about this? This is my documentation of how I'm gonna beat the gnat, not a snuggle-diary. Not _any_ sort of diary.

**Attempt #1**

Ahem. Now that we're back on track. Since that whole episode with Matt happened yesterday, and I got cautioned by Roger (this is my fifty-eighth caution to date), today I decided to try a method that didn't involve hitting people upside the head. Otherwise, I might get chucked out of Wammy's.

Nah, they wish. At caution number five, I told them that if they kicked me out, I wouldn't hesitate to grab the first news show I could and spill everything about L and the rest of the crew. And since Roger has no alias or anything, he'd be pretty screwed if I did that.

They got nothing on Mello.

Yes. I just referred to myself in the third person.

But yeah. Anyway. I'm pretty much against people I actually like getting hurt because of my hijinks (that's a technical term), so today I banned myself from violence.

It's only ten o'clock, and this already SUCKS.

This morning, I flopped out of bed in my usual eager, I'm-totally-ready-to-begin-a-day-of-fun-fun-fun way, and, with my face pressed into the carpet, demanded my morning bar of chocolate. Actually, it was more of a muffled grunt, but Matt's got the idea after eight years of the routine.

But today, to my immense disgust: "No can do, Mels, sorry."

He didn't sound sorry at all. He sounded like he was fighting back laughter.

Well, it wasn't gonna be long before he was fighting back something else - namely, my fist. I swung myself to my feet and staggered over to his bed, muttering some unintelligible shit about cupcakes and diffusion. Not even sure what I was on about. Never am, really, in the mornings.

Matt, though, held up his hands, grinning. The nerve of that kid. "I'm an invalid, Mels! You really gonna attack an invalid?"

Unimpressed, I looked at him. He did look pretty bad, in fairness. There was a lump on the back of his head (that was probably the wooden board) and a remarkably large, purplish bruise under his lip (the plates, I'm guessing).

'Cause I'm an articulate bastard, I said, "Whassamean?"

"I'm horribly injured. I'm off lessons, I get breakfast in bed, I'm allowed video games all day, and I basically get to lie around doing fuck all."

It took me around five minutes to properly process this.

Matt's grin got bigger. He looked like the fucking Cheshire Cat, it was ridiculous. "Yeah, so thanks for beating me up, Mels, you're a real pal."

Fuck him.

But when I went downstairs for breakfast, I saw that Near was sporting a similar head-lump to Matt's. I had obviously scored with the hardback-books-in-the-pillow job. So I suppose all is good in the world.

Today's method of beating the gnat played to my strengths, of which I have many.

This one was bribary. Always works.

The only downside of this particular technique was that I had to speak to the gnat.

Now, I am not someone who considers themselves above other people. But when your chatter-mate is an insect, that's another story altogether. My attempts to be civil went over pretty well, all things considering.

AWESOME ONE OF INTELLIGENCE: Ahem.

GNAT: Good morning, Mello.

AWESOME ONE OF INTELLIGENCE: Not when you're arou- FUCK! I'm supposed to be nice to you... uh... nice lump on your head?

GNAT: ...

AWESOME ONE OF INTELLIGENCE: Are you ignoring me now? What, you can't even be bothered to be polite? Who taught you your manners, huh? Answer me, gnat!

GNAT: ...

AWESOME ONE OF INTELLIGENCE: Ugh, you're a fucking nightmare.

GNAT: Actually, I believe that you have recurred in my bad dreams more than I am likely to have recurred in yours.

AWESOME ONE OF INTELLIGENCE: Aww, really? You're too sweet.

GNAT: ...

AWESOME ONE OF INTELLIGENCE: I'm kidding, I hate you. Anyway, uh... I'm only talking to you 'cause I wanted to ask you something.

GNAT: In that case, please go ahead.

He didn't sound very impressed. To be honest, though, he never does, so I decided to stick with it and go into full-on coercion mode. No one can resist the sexy Mello charms, not even gnats.

"Well," I said, "The thing is. You know how you love, uh... dice? Well... in my pocket..." I fished around in my jeans pockets (dude, I only wear leather when I'm making an effort), "...I have... one die... half a piece of string... actually, how do you define 'half a piece of string'? ...anyway, and some chewing gum, sour tropical flavour... one pound fifty... some chocolate - shit, you're not having that..."

It was at this point that the gnat began to walk away.

I stand corrected. Apparently, gnats _are_ resistant to sexy Mello charms.

Damn. I'll have to try and be nice again.

"Hey!" I bellowed. He thought I was gonna let him go, huh? Well, he was wrong. And that just shows how unintelligent he is and how much he totally does _not_ deserve to be L's number one. "I am fucking speaking to you, you fucking bastard!"

Yeah... 'nice'.

Near turned around and looked at me, frustratingly deadpan. "Did you know," he said quietly, "that the number of times somebody swears in a sentence is inversely proportional to their intelligence?"

You see? This is exactly why I hate gnats. "...Fuck you."

"You have just proven my point. Profanities made up fifty percent of that sentence - more, if you are counting by letter. Therefore, you have just spoken for the levels of your intelligence."

Did he just call me stupid?

...He just called me fucking stupid.

He's lucky as hell that it's Non-Violence Day.

**Attempt #2**

Right. Gnats, for future reference, appear immune to bribary. Remember that. Jeez, you honestly thought gnats could be bribed? What's wrong with you?

Anyway.

So if the gnat can't be bribed to drop his grades, I'll have to seek the help of the authority around here.

Oh, great, I've gotta talk to Roger.

Still, we all must make sacrifices in life. Off I go.

In case anybody was wondering, I am a beast at professionalism. If you ever need to seem like THE authority, THE expert in any given situation... well, I shall treat you to this quick guide.

1. Assume an expression of grave seriousness. In Business (yes, that capital was _highly_ necessary) anyone with a smiling face is immediately judged and thrown from life without honours.

2. Make sure your walk is brisk and clean. This assures even the real professionals that you Mean Business. If you can, wear high heels. ...Actually, if you happen to be of the male persuasion, disregard that last comment (tried it, tested it. It went down badly).

3. With those last two points in mind, march up to the person in question and, without preamble, deliver a clipped, direct speech. For example:

"Roger. We have a situation. I regret to say that our dear gnat Near has become... stupid. I mean this in the most delicate possible sense. However, since our own gnat is now a total idiot, it is only fitting that the second-place candidate be _immediately_ moved up to number one... Oh? How bizarre! It happens to be me. I was not at all aware of this! Nevertheless, you must move me up to number one at once. It's imperative. Can I leave you to deal with this, Roger? Of course, I _could_ give you some _help_... if you know what I mean."

4. Wink conspiritorially and, with a now-_extremely_-shifty look on your face, nudge the person in question and subtley slip them the bribe. This subtlety is important. Even if you're alone.

And _that_, my darling readers, is how you do Business.

...Of course, on this particular occasion I was sent away to my room after really quite a flippant dismissal, but it might have done the trick.

"Mello, stop wasting my time," could be code for "Absolutely, Mello! What a top-notch idea! How could I have seen through Near's stupidity all this time? I must be going senile in my old age! Ah, no, wait, I was already a senile old bastard! Ohohoho!"

You never know.


	4. Method 4: Get him into trouble

_Ugh. Does anyone else find it super annoying how you always have to type in the random letters to log into Fanfiction now? Yeah... This is me: "wrab" "Incorrect security code." "wraq." "Incorrect security code." "vraq." "Incorrect... email and password combination." "AARRGHH FML T_T." Yeah. That's my life._

_Anyhow. I haven't had this sort of response for a story in a long time - seriously, guys, we've hit twenty reviews and this is only the fourth chapter posted. I FREAKING LOVE YOU ALL! So much I'm gonna name you - Deathberry Supreme, RiinaVenecara, EAP, trumpee, Carottal, can't-reach-beer, and SilverWingedRaven. Reviews make me so excited. Seriously, I checked for new reviews on my phone, saw that it had changed from '18' to '20', then squealed and fell off my chair. I got Mello's famous 'WTF' look from the librarian. Yeah, I was in a library. Happens like that..._

_Anywhatsit, I guess I'd better shut up now and give you the damn chapter. Adios~_

* * *

**10 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #4  
****Get him into trouble**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

Okay. Just wanted to give you an update. I have found the best website in the history of humanity.

Title? "How Can I Get Rid of Gnats?"

Favourite. Website. Ever.

"Of all the flying pests," (it read) "gnats might be the most annoying. Though they're harmless, they hover and buzz around our heads, driving us crazy. Gnats are also known as vinegar flies or fruit flies because of their attraction to the smell of rotten food. This explains why they are particularly found around drains and trash cans."

And you know the best part about this website? You can become a member and edit what it says _however the fuck you like_.

Needless to say, I had fun.

You wanna read my masterpiece? Well, too bad, you're going to anyway.

"Of all the world's pests, gnats are certainly the most annoying. Though they're harmless save their freakish appearance, they hover and buzz around our heads, driving us crazy. Gnats are also known as 'Near' or 'that twit-head over there' because of their attraction to the number one spot at Wammy's. This explains why they particularly enjoy the areas around drains and trash cans, after being punched into them by superior beings such as Mellos."

It also gave tips on how to get rid of gnats, hence the name of the article.

I spent the rest of the morning binning all of the fruit in the orphanage and spraying the gnat with insecticide.

Ah, good times.

But, anyway, that wasn't the main focus of today. Today's main gnat-squishing method lay in... getting him into trouble.

**Attempt #2**

See, Near never gets in trouble. He's that typical nerdy, suck-up-to-the-teacher, ass-kisser-extraordinaire kid. Everyone school's got one. Except that ours happens to be the smartest person in England (except for L, 'cause L is virtually a god). Possibly Europe. Possibly even the world.

This is why my life sucks so bad.

But, self-bashing aside, this has provided me with a gateway for beating Near. I am _always_ in trouble. Like, Mello-this-is-the-seventh-time-I've-told-you-to-get-off-the-roof in trouble. So if I can transfer that troublesome behaviour onto the gnat, then the staff here at Wammy's might stop being so biased towards him (they all LOVE the gnat, it's totally not fair in ANY way) and bump him down a few grades.

This is my main discovery, you see? It's the faculty's fault. IT'S ALL THE FACULTY.

So.

Today, during English Literature and Other Ways to Rot Your Brain Due to Overexposure to Boredom (I got yelled at for calling it that on the front of my exercise book) I decided to give it a shot. I thought that this would probably be a good lesson to begin in, since we have a female teacher. Female teachers, particularly ones under the age of thirty, seem to like me way more than other teachers.

See, those sexy Mello charms _do_ exist. I am pained that you ever doubted me.

I leaned over to Matt and said, "You know how you _love_ me?"

Really, that must be the words that I say to him most often, if you think about it.

Matt didn't even look up from his Gameboy. I wonder sometimes if he realises how obvious he is. I mean, even the teachers have got to have noticed by now that ninety-nine percent of Matt's lesson time is spent on gaming. There's only so much a guy can stare at his crotch before it just gets weird.

"Mello," he muttered back, "I'm not stealing Roger's car, I'm not going to set anyone on fire, and no, you cannot test your new hair dye on me." He grimaced. "Because that was _not_ hair dye last time."

"...You thought that was hair dye? Even though it was green?"

"This is you we're talking about."

Fair enough.

But I'd veered off-topic again.

"No, but Matty, _listen_," I whispered. "I'm gonna get Near in trouble, okay? So, um, whatever happens next... just go with it, alright?"

"Hey, wait, hang on, what are you gonna-"

That was basically agreement in my opinion, so I reached underneath my desk, where I had hidden an entire can of white paint, and, making sure the teacher's back was to us, I upturned it on Matt's head.

The other kids' faces were pictures. I almost laughed, before I remembered that it wasn't me that was supposed to have done it.

See, this is why I do bad things. It's funny.

Matt, for his part, froze, paling in disbelief. "Mello-!" Then paint dripped into his mouth and he spat it out with disgust.

The teacher turned around to see what the sudden fuss was about.

Cue brilliant acting.

"_OH _my _GOSH_!" I shrieked, pointing at the gnat, who was looking flummoxed on the other side of the room. "_Near_! How _could _you do this to poor Mattikins?" I dabbed at Matt's bright white head in a sorrowful way. I shook my head. "I expected _better_ of you, young man!"

Matt shuddered and tried to wipe the paint out of his face. Good thing he wears those freaking goggles, really. "Mello, you _dick_!" he gasped (slightly incoherently, what with the paint everywhere, but still, it was pretty obvious what he meant).

Then what did he do? The bitch lunged and shook paint _all over me_.

I immediately forgot the gnat in favour of the more pressing matter of my hair. "Matt!" I shrieked (and it was a real shriek this time).

"This had better come out of my clothes!" he said threateningly, scooping a handful of paint off his shirt and throwing it at my head. On top of my head. Onto my hair.

Bitch, this shit just got real.

I won't go into any grotesque detail, but what happened in that room, it was nasty. There are some classroom brawls that should never be repeated. Let's just say that Matt now owes me three new pens and leave it at that.

As we were waiting to be called into Roger's office twenty minutes later, Matt goes, "And how exactly did you think this would work? How did you think you were gonna blame that on Near when he was sitting on the opposite side of the room?"

Dude shouldn't play those video games all the time. Makes him a bit stupid. "Well, _duh_, because Near's an albino."

"So?"

"So it's obvious he'd use white paint." I blinked. Paint was crusting on my eyebrows. "Also, you're my friend, so I would never have done something like that, so they couldn't blame me."

Matt's brow furrowed a bit, like he couldn't really understand my logic. Why does no one really understand my logic? Then he just leaned against the wall and grinned. "...In the straightest way possible, I love you, Mello."

I grinned too. "I know."

What can I say? He's my bitch. Always has been.

**Attempt #3**

Me and Matt spent the entire of lunch washing all of the paint off of us. Unfortunately, our room only has one shower, and Matt got in it first. Damn him. Anyway, I suggested sharing the shower, but according to _Matt_ that's weird and perverted. And _apparantly_ so is opening the bathroom door without knocking first. Wammy's doesn't believe in privacy, you see.

So yeah. Roger found me lolling around, waiting for Matt to finish up, and asked basically why the hell I was still covered in paint. I told him. He looked a bit shellshocked, because I actually had a legit reason, which is rare for me. Maybe he was a bit sore about that, because you know what he did? Do you _know_ what that evil crazed maniac man _did_?

He told me to use Near's shower.

I mean, really? Out of _every kid_ in this _entire orphanage_, he chose _Near_? Really? Does he _hate_ me? Does he want me to be suffocated by the pure essence of_ gnat_ that that room radiates? I don't want to use a gnat's shower! Who knows what he does in there?

...Ew. I think I just threw up a little bit.

But there's no arguing with Roger when he gets into _that_ mood, and it's only because I didn't like him touching me when he started practically _shoving_ me towards the gnat's room that I finally agreed.

You cannot imagine the look of surprise on the gnat's face when I barged into his room (I don't do 'knocking') with a towel and a bottle of shampoo. And that's because it didn't exist. He just looked up and said, "Oh. Hello, Mello." as though I was a regular visitor.

Gah. I hate him so much.

"Listen, gnat," I said. "Roger virtually molested me into using your shower, and that is the only reason I'm here. I don't want to, and if you tell anyone about this, then your face will become aquainted with the underside of Roger's car's tyres, got it?"

He gazed at me. "Whatever you say, Mello."

I scowled (I swear, it's that darkly attractive look that would get all the girls, if I was into that) and stormed towards the bathroom. "Don't come in. I don't trust you gnats."

Hmm. I still wasn't quite sure about this lack-of-bathroom-lock policy that Wammy's likes to employ, so once I got in the bathroom I spent a good five minutes piling everything I could find (i.e. my clothes, towels, toothbrushes, toilet roll, tampons- hey, wait...) against the door so that there was no way he could open it. I'm sure there's a creepy reason why he always wears pyjamas...

Anyway.

_Holy mother of Jesus_, his shower is fucking _freezing_! After I'd got past the obstacle of making the shower the right height for me (he's a midget, remember?), I switched it on and was immediately doused with water that I swear was straight from the northernmost lakes of the Arctic.

I think I understand why Near has no balls now. It's because he freezes them off every day. _Fuck_, I hate cold showers.

Now I am entirely sure that he has no soul. No sentient being can possibly have a shower that cold every day without _dying_. As my grandma used to say... A cold shower equals a cold heart.

...Or was that Matt that time those kids snuck in alcohol...? Eh.

So yeah, after those little catastrophes, I was just there. Showering. Reflecting on life, and gnats, and stuff. The shower is where most of my genius inspiration strikes, actually. I recommend it.

There was a knock on the door. "Me-els, just came to ask... want a hot chocolate?"

My heart soared. Like, I literally think it moved upwards a little bit, if that's anatomically possible. It was Matt! He had purposefully entered enemy territory just to save me from being utterly drowned by gnat-ness. And he came bearing gifts of hot chocolate, which was even better. I love that kid. I seriously contemplated striding out and kissing him, but... meh. Too bad he's not into that.

"I'm showering," I pointed out wisely. Thank you, Captain Obvious.

"Cool. I'll leave it outside," Matt replied, which means that my hot chocolate will probably be quite a cold chocolate by the time I'm done.

The length of my showers is not to be underestimated. I could spent a good two hours in there, but then the other kids yell at me for wasting all the hot water.

And also I only had lunchtime to finish showering. No way I was missing even a second of lessons. I mean, Matt skips all the time, but I am proud to say that my attendance record stands at one hundred percent. Apart from when I get kicked out. That doesn't count.

Well, it seems that the shower treatment struck gold again, because I had an absolutely _brilliant_ idea there concerning gnats and just how to get them into trouble. When I got out of the shower, I downed my hot (cold) chocolate and gave the gnat an evil grin. He hadn't moved since when I got in.

Now _that_ is creepy.

Next class was physics, and as I walked in, I _ever_-so-surreptitiously taped something under the gnat's desk. He blinked at me briefly, but he's so much of an soulless cold-showerer that he said nothing.

I waited for a while. Listened to a bit of physics. But, obviously, because my genius surpasses everything and anything, I soon got bored enough to put my plan into action.

I pressed 'play' on the tiny remote control in my hand.

Suddenly - suddenly! And awesomely! Like some genius action movie! - the gnat's voice rose up from underneath his desk.

"I - hate you - Mello - I - am - not - even - lying - this - is - all - true - so - FUCK! - you - GAAAAAHHHHHHHH, I'M INSANE!"

There was a click, and then silence. I grinned smugly.

Because I'm a genius, I taped Near saying all of these random words and then stuck them together into that little hate message. I'm brilliant, I know. I mean, it may sound a little stalkerish, following the gnat around and _recording_ him, but it was all for the cause.

Don't even ask me where I get all of this equipment from.

Oh, and the 'Fuck' was me, just for your extra info. I couldn't get him to say 'Fuck'. It appears gnats are adverse to expletives. And the bit on the end was me, too. Just for dramatic effect.

Anyway, there's the cue for my acting again.

"_Near_!" I cried, flinging up my arms to show just how hurt I was. Hurt beyond fucking _repair_, bitches, and you'd better believe it. "I can't believe that you'd say something so utterly cruel and unprovoked! I... I just... I don't know what to say... I..." At this point, I flung myself off my chair/onto Matt (it's amazing how many lessons I sit next to him in) and proceeded to weep into his shoulder.

All I can say is that, frankly, I'm offended that he didn't try and comfort me.

...But I forgot that we had a male physics teacher, damn it.

This is the second lesson I've been sent out of today. At this rate I'm never gonna beat Near.

"See ya in hell," whispered Matt cheerfully as I trudged out.

"Bring me the chocolate," I muttered back.

It's only nine days until L arrives.

That fact is beginning to concern me slightly.


	5. Method 5: Be intelligent

___I __categorically do NOT own Death Note. Or Blu-Tack. Nope. Not even a little bit. Shame, really._

_Yes, the 'Mello's painting' bit here is a spoof of an old joke that you may or may not have heard. Just Google 'the cow ate the grass then left.' I just thought it'd be amusing to put in, 'cause it seems so Mello :P Oh, and... I really hope that everyone's heard of Oxford University. It _is_ famous outside of the UK, right...? The prank Mello mentions in this chapter is actually true, too XD Oh, those Oxford students. Such pranksters._

_Oh, yeah, and I've been getting a lot of reviews along the lines of 'Do I sense some MelloxMatt? Do I? Do I? *squee*' Well, all I can say is this... Take it how you will ;) It's totally open to interpretation._

_And on the subject of reviews, epically thank you to everyone who did! That being Guest, Boo, Exploading albino potato (your name... what even, I love it XD), trumpee, Sonar, Carottal, and SilverWingedRaven!_

* * *

**9 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #5  
****Be intelligent**

* * *

Matt has a motorbike now.

I'm not sure where he got it. I'm even surer that it's not legal. 'Cause he's only fifteen, and... yeah, that's definitely illegal.

Ugh. That's so cool.

It's like his baby. He's keeping it hidden from Roger, but every spare moment that he's not attached to something electronic he's with it. He told me, "Mello. If you ever steal this motorbike, now or in ten years' time, I can promise you without hesitation that that will be the last day you live on this earth."

...Challenge accepted.

**Attempt #1**

Today, I'm going for a different way to beat the gnat.

I'm going to do something really, _really_ smart.

So smart that everyone'll be worshipping the ground at my feet, and I'll be number one, become L's successor, get rich and famous, and everyone will love me. In contrast, the gnat will be that awkward little homeless person who you _sort of_ want to help for a moment, then you realise that... they're a gnat.

So you know what I've gotta do?

I've gotta study for the geography test today and get ONE HUNDRED FREAKING PERCENT.

Okay, longshore drift is the process by which sediment is transported down the coastline...

Matt turned up after about two hours (not even going to ask what he was doing with a motorbike that could take two hours) and asked what I was doing. I told him that I was studying for the geography test, duh, what was he, stupid or something, and why the fuck wasn't he doing the same?

At that, Matt gave me a very funny look, like _I _was stupid or something.

I really hate that look. So I may have said "What?" in a slightly aggressive way. And my voice may have broken slightly from the force of that "What?". And I may have grabbed Matt around the shoulders just a little bit. And left a teensy little red mark. But that's beside the point.

And then he goes, "Dude... We've got a biology test today, not a geography one."

...

...

"...SHIT!" I screeched (yeah, not even gonna pretend that wasn't a screech, 'cause they probably heard me in Switzerland), and then I headbutted him.

To this day, I am not entirely sure why I did that.

"OUCH!" we both yelled.

"What the _fuck_, Mello?" Matt bellowed, clutching his head.

"Why is your skull so solid?" I groaned, crawling onto my bed and assuming the foetal position.

"To protect my brain!"

"You have a brain...?"

"Yes! It's normal size and fully functional!"

"Ma-a-att..." I croaked, swiping at him weakly with my arm and nuzzling into the duvet to protect my poor, aggrieved head. "...Why you quote Spongebob...?"

Matt gave me the sort of look you might give a mental patient who just told you you looked pretty. "I fear for your sanity," he told me bluntly.

"But I wanna beat Near!" I moaned. What had I done? I had studied for geography when I _didn't need to_, and neglected to study for the _biology that I needed to study for_-! "I don't wanna be a gnat hobo! I wanna be rich and famous!"

"Er, who told you you were going to be a 'gnat hobo', moron? What the fuck even _is_ that?" Matt sat down heavily on the bed with a muffled _thump_. "You do know that this test counts for, like, next to nothing, right? You don't need to turn into a bitch about it."

What? It was worth nothing? There _was_ a light in my life after all!

I raised my head hopefully. "How much of nothing is 'next to nothing'...?"

"Just the monthly scores. That's it."

How cruel is the world, to offer a sliver of hope only to have it snatched away in an instant...?

My face met the bedcover once again. "But-that's-the-one-L's-gonna-see-and-he's-gonna-think-I'm-shit-FUCK-MY-LAAAAYYYYYF-"

I might as well just DIE RIGHT NOW.

"MELS!" Matt said, in a way that was far too loud for my liking. "Calm it!"

Well, that was harsh, especially considering that my life had come crashing down around me and I could just feel myself falling to pieces and dying while the gnat evil-laughed in the background of my crushing sorrow. Out come the puppy-dog eyes. "B-but Matty..."

"Listen," said Matt reluctantly, rudely ignoring my best puppy-dog efforts. "You want me to hack into the school system and get you the answers?"

...And there's my reason to keep living.

"_**** ******_!" I said. (That was Matt's real name there, and I'm still paranoid about someone finding this notebook, so I'm not writing it down. Sorry, biznitches, but only three people on this earth know Matt's actual name - me, him, and L. Same on my real name. Even Roger doesn't know it.) "That is _illegal_ and _wrong_ and _cheating_ and not condonable in _any_ way, and yes I want you to fucking hack into the school system and get me the answers."

What? At least I'm honest.

Watching Matt hack is a very time-consuming activity. I love watching him hack. But I find that there are certain conditions that have to be met when he does.

This is why I was to be found a couple of minutes later drawing all the curtains and switching all the lights off in our bedroom.

"Uh, Mels, what are you doing?" asked Matt, who hadn't got further than picking up his laptop.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No, not really."

"I'm darkening the room." When he still looked blank, I rolled my eyes and elaborated. "You can't just hack at _any_ light level, Matty. It has to be dark. Then you get the light from the computer on your face, and it gives the impression that it's really late at night, and you're really tired, and you're hacking, and you're in some special intelligence force, and it's all _awesome_." I beamed.

Matt looked at me. "...This is one of the main reasons why you want to be a detective, right?"

"To recreate awesome crime scenes? Yes."

And then I disappeared to source some black eyeshadow so that it looked like there were dark circles under his eyes.

Once my scene was completed (believe me, it was a pain getting Matt to take off those goggles so that I could L-ify him), I allowed Matt to start.

It was a tense atmosphere, readers. A tense, tense atmosphere.

Matt's fingers flew across the keyboard. His face was serious, fixed on the screen and illuminated just as I had wanted by the light from the computer. He's never more solemn than when he's hacking. Even when he reaches the last level on Final Fantasy XIII-2 (I have picked up a lot of gaming language via osmosis, you see), it doesn't come close to this level of concentration.

I wonder sometimes if Matt finds it weird that I like watching him hack so much.

...Hell, I don't care if he does.

The only sad thing is that Matt's such a brilliant hacker that the hacking only lasts, like, thirty seconds.

"...All done," he said, after a tragically short period. He turned the laptop around and showed me the biology test markscheme.

Man, sometimes I enjoy the fact that Matt may possibly have an intelligence level on par with mine.

"I love you," was the only reasonable response at this point.

"In the straightest possible way?" He might have been teasing. I think he was.

Still.

I grinned. "No. Not even that. I just love you."

He was lucky that I'd made it dark in there, or I'd have been able to see how he was blushing like a maniac. D'aww.

He loves it.

**Attempt #2**

After all of that, the time of the biology test finally drew near.

...Drew _near_. _Near_. Get it? Yup, I'm hilarious. Don't crack a rib or anything.

Although, thinking about it, maybe I should have said 'the time of the biology test finally drew gnat'. That would have made more sense.

I was just cruising along, being a genius, probably getting one hundred percent (thanks due in part to Matt, although in fairness, the questions weren't hard) - when I came across question fourteen.

'Linda is trying to have a baby,' the question informed me.

I glanced across at Linda, who was sitting two rows in front of me.

'Trying' was clearly the operative word here. No one would _want_ to have a kid with that psycho.

'Linda is having trouble getting pregnant,' the question went on.

This hardly surprises me. Like I said before... the idea would disgust all sane males on the planet.

'Linda goes to a clinic and meets other women who have different problems,' said the question.

I officially love this question.

'Linda,' said the question, 'has problems.'

I had to be escorted out of the room in hysterics.

So much for being really smart.

Now, whenever Linda annoys me, I just look at her calmly and say, "Linda has problems," and walk away. What? Even our test papers support me.

It's fucking hilarious. And Matt (because, clearly, he's the only observant one, although we're all supposed to be genii) is the only one who understands.

...Well, he's the only one who laughs, anyway.

**Attempt #3**

At the present, I am halfway up the clock tower. I'm really hoping that the hour's not going to strike at any time soon, because otherwise it'll clang in my ear, deafen me, and I'll fall down and die.

I need a watch.

So why, I hear you cry, why am I halfway up the clock tower? You thought that today was about doing something really intelligent, didn't you?

Well, you're right. This _is_ something really intelligent.

Hear me out.

Okay, so I read somewhere about this Oxford university student who climbed on top of a gigantic statue (or something, I don't think they actually know how he got up there) and put womens' underwear on it. And he owned up to it and everything, and they couldn't figure out how he'd done it, and in the end it had to be removed with a freaking _crane_.

But you know the best bit? He didn't get yelled at, or kicked out, or anything. He got _praised_ 'cause it was a really clever thing to have done without anyone figuring out how.

So yeah. Now he's my role model.

And here I am.

No, I haven't got womens' underwear. I don't own any myself (contrary to popular belief... I still don't know who started that rumour), and stealing some would require, like... going into Linda's room, or something. And touching Linda's underwear. And... well, ew. That's all I have to say on the matter. Plus, we haven't got a statue; we've got a clock tower.

Instead, I'm going up there with an awesome plan. I'm going to stop the clock tower from striking.

This'll solve two problems at once, is my logic. One: I'll beat the gnat by being this super-intelligent. Two: The clock tower's ring is the most loud, deep, monotonous, _annoying _sound concieved to mankind. If I manage to put a stop to it once and for all, I'll be a hero. No exaggeration. A fucking _hero_.

It wasn't long before I reached the little ledge below the clock's face (as stated at some point before, I have epic ninja skills). Wow, close up, that thing is goddamn _huge_. The shortest hand is longer than my leg. Still. Tally-ho.

...Tell no one that I just said that.

Anyway. So, shall I let you in on how I'm gonna accomplish Mission Silencio?

Two words: Blu. Tack.

Earlier, I took a quick, casual visit to the room where they pin up all the younger kids' crappy paintings and 'artwork'. Clearly no one here at Wammy's is cut out to be an artist, is all I'm saying. All the stuff in that room looks like glorified pig dribble. But hey, it seems to make the little guys feel loved to have it stuck up there.

Ah, I remember the days when they tried to make me paint. I didn't paint anything and claimed it was me with a bar of chocolate.

"But where's the chocolate, Mello?" the art teacher asked.

"I ate it." Well, duh.

"Well, okay. Where are you, then?"

"I left because there was no more chocolate."

Needless to say, they didn't display any of _my_ artwork in the Hall of Shame.

If I was my kid, I'd be so proud of me.

But anyway, the point of that whole little trip was that they stick the pictures up with Blu-Tack.

I stole it. All.

There are a lot of ripped paintings in that room now. And I have a shitload of Blu-Tack.

Basically, the idea is that I shall stick the clock hands to the clock face. Brilliant, right? (Say 'right', bitches.) Because if the hands can't reach the hour mark, it's not going to ring.

So I got the Blu-Tack out of my rucksack (yes, you heard right, they use so much Blu-Tack to stick up those pig-dribble pictures that I needed a _rucksack_ to carry it all) and began my espionage of sticking.

Hour hand was no problem. The Mellomeister got that thing stuck down good. But then the challenge came when I was tackling the minute hand. I could not get the fucking thing to stay _still_. It just kept on _moving_.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh at me. 'Of course it'll move - it's a minute hand! Trololol.' But no jokes - that shit was serious. And then, because I hadn't factored in the apparently _immense_ distance between the clock face and the minute hand (there was a gap of two whole centimetres, what even were the architects on?) I ran out of Blu-Tack.

In all fairness, I _could_ have gone and got some more from... somewhere... but at that particular moment I was annoyed and sweaty and on top of a clock tower and I wanted to be intelligent and it seemed much, much more appealing to just have a tantrum.

So I did. Almost-falling-off-the-clock-tower and completely-breaking-the-minute-hand-off included.

Wait...

Oh, shit. I just completely broke the minute hand off.

Somehow, I don't think Roger's going to think that this is incredibly smart.

...Although, since the clock hand _is_ made of metal, and I'm not really sure how I managed to rip it off myself, it _could_ classify as quite a remarkable feat-

-No, Mello. No. Just shut up. No.


	6. Method 6: Kidnap him

_Sadly, Death Note isn't mine. I'd be a bit concerned if you didn't know that by now, though._

_Hooray, the Olympics have started! Anyone like watching sports...? I think I'll probably watch a bit of it, if only because it's in London, which is home turf for me. Go Team GB! I watched the opening ceremony last night and thought it was pretty good... Rowan Atkinson is a legend, and I was seriously wondering who outside the UK would understand our humour :P Although, to be quite honest, our mascots are a gigantic joke XD And also, I love all those really unpatriotic Brits who are taking advantage of the cheap air flights out of the country to go on holiday while the Olympics are on XD_

_Reviews :3 Oh, you guys make me so happy ^^ Thank you, Citrine Nebulae, SilverWingedRaven, Exploading albino potato, TragicAtBest13, ChippyMunks, trumpee, FallenHero93, Carottal, and Tigglewoo! Even the Near fans approve now, which is awesome._

* * *

**8**** Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #6  
****Kidnap him**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

The time is four thirty-six am. Normally, I wouldn't be up at anything like this hour unless I'd stayed up all night and hadn't gone to bed yet (although that's more Matt's forte, what with those soul-sucking video games of his), but today is a special exception called upon because I need to beat the gnat.

At the moment, I am creeping across the third-floor landing, which is the floor on which the gnat's bedroom is located. I have with me a sack, a rope, and a ripped-up shirt that will shortly serve as a blindfold and a gag, and I am dressed in black trousers, one of Matt's stripy black-and-white T-shirts, and a burglar's mask.

Yep. I can see the pieces falling together in your mind.

I'm going to kidnap the gnat.

If he's not here, he can't be number one, can he? So I'll be number one - I'll be substitute number one, at least. Really, this has got to work. I've got it all planned out. There's a cage waiting in the shed with shredded newspaper at the bottom and everything.

The dressing up was just for effect, by the way. I'm pretty big on effect. Effect is important.

Anyway.

It's really important that I don't get caught this time. Not just for the sake of royally kicking the gnat's ass, but also because I do realise that what I'm doing could be construed as, uh... ever so slightly illegal? And also, as I was told by Matt (still gaming, the idiot) before I left, "That kinda looks like some creepy bondage, man."

I told him that the bruises on his face seemed to be healing well, would he like me to improve how visible they were?

But what he said _was_ kind of true. Especially since I'm gonna be tying the gnat up fairly soon. In a _completely _non-sexual way, might I add. Eurgh, the thought of getting any sort of pleasure out of that makes me want to gag. And shoot myself in the head. Several times.

But with people like Linda running around, being all sick and twisted and revolting, you never know people _might_ think...

And that's why I'm doing this so early in the morning, to minimise chances of being caught.

Another reason why I can't be caught is because Roger isn't best pleased with me at the moment. Remember the 'shit-I-broke-the-minute-hand' fiasco yesterday? Yeah, well I was discovered soon afterwards by my French teacher and I got into a moderate/large amount of trouble. I've been labelled a vandal and a thief (yes, for a while they _honestly _thought I was trying to nick the minute hand), I am officially grounded (even though they never let us out of this place anyway - I swear it's like a mental institution or something) and I even got a quick phone call from L to tell me how bad I was.

Yeah, I literally got to speak to L. I don't see how they think that's a punishment.

He wasn't exactly angry, either. "M-kun... I hear that you have been breaking orphanage property," he said, in the scrambly, alien, but no more emotional than usual voice that he always used on the phone.

"Uh, yeah, a bit..." I agreed reluctantly. But then it sort of sunk in that I was _speaking_ to _L_ and I started babbling in a super-over-excited kiddie way. "Oh, wow, L, I'm _sooo_ looking forward to when you come to visit! Oh my gosh, I mean, I haven't seen you in so long, and I can show you my room and you can have some of my chocolate, if you want!" I hope you understand that for me, allowing others to touch my chocolate is a HUGE DEAL. "And I've grown lots since I last saw you, too! I bet I'm almost as tall as you now!"

"I find the possibility highly likely," L said. "You are, after all, a teenage male, and as such you will be doing the majority of your growing at this age. I, on the other hand, am a fully grown adult already. However, the probability that I will stand up for more than a minute during my visit is less than five percent, so I'm afraid that we may never know."

Ah, I love him so damn much.

Matt always teases me about this - he's going to be terrible when L actually comes (in just over a week! EXCITEMENT!), because he just doesn't care, which never ceases to amaze me. And _apparently_, according to him, I turn into a worse ass-kisser than Near when L's around. He alleges that there's an ass-kissing face, and an ass-kissing voice, and an annoyingly hyper ass-kissing attidude.

Um, excuse me? That's my _adoring_ face. And my _adoring_ voice. And my _adoring_ attitude.

He's just jealous 'cause I never use them on him.

Anyway.

Back to the kidnapping.

For future reference, the floorboards here are _really_ creaky. I mean, it's not surprising since I swear this place was built around 3000 BC, but it's still pretty unhelpful when I'm trying to walk without attracting unwanted attention. It's starting to really get on my nerves. This is my relationship with the floorboards:

ME: *teeny-weeny baby step in SOCKS that wouldn't have disturbed a mouse two centimetres below*

FLOORBOARD: *_CREAK_!*

ME: *glares*

FLOORBOARDS: Lol at you.

They hate me, I promise you.

Anyway, I eventually reached the gnat's room (titled 'Near' in disgustingly neat lettering on the door - although you can still faintly see where I scribbled 'is a twit' under it that one time... Or, at least, that's what Roger thought it said. He still wasn't impressed.) and carefully pushed the door open.

Bleh. The gnat snores a little bit. Yet another reason to add to my list of why I detest him.

Now, here came the bit I hadn't really thought through. See, I needed to get him tied up and in the sack, but at the same time, I didn't really want to touch him, because, well... it's a gnat. Why did I come alone, again?

I approached the bed cautiously and hovered over his curled up, sleeping form, wondering how best to go about this without contaminating myself.

And then the gnat's eyes snapped open.

"HOLY _SHIT_!" I jumped about seven feet in the air, tripped backwards, and stepped on a Lego brick - which, as I'm sure you all know, hurts like _fuck_.

"Good morning, Mello," said the gnat calmly, sitting up. He didn't sound the slightest bit sleepy. That's not normal, I'm sure.

"Why the _hell_ would you leave that there?" I growled, hopping on one foot like an idiot while I clutched my pained extremity.

The gnat looked at me. "It's funny," he said. Liar, he didn't look even a tiny bit amused. "You are the one trespassing in my room at an early hour, equipped with enough materials to force me into what might well be a very unsavoury position, and yet _you_ are the one complaining of _my_ inconsideration?"

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

And I didn't have time for his word games, either. "Listen, just get into the sack."

"And why should I voluntarily put myself at a disadvantage in this situation? Just because your sick-minded fantasies cannot be satisfied by Matt does not mean I will be any more willing."

Okay. There were about fifty things wrong with what he'd just said. I spat, "What are you on about, gnat? _You're_ the sick-minded one for thinking that I'd want to do _anything_ to you, and- hang on, _what_ did you say about Matt?"

It was the first time, I think, that I'd ever seen Near anything close to a smile. He didn't meet my gaze as he said lightly, "I am only commenting that despite the fact that you have a seventy percent attraction to Matt, the probability that he reciprocates your feelings is only around four percent."

He did _not_ just go there.

"What the fuck?" I hissed. And then, again, just because I couldn't think of anything else to say, "What the fuck? First of all, I do not have a seventy percent attraction to Matt! What even is a 'seventy percent attraction'? That's just bullshit! And- and second of all, even if I _did_ feel like that for Matt, I'd be able to get him in two seconds flat! What's this crap about only four percent reciprocation? He fucking worships me!"

One gnat-like eyebrow went up. "Oh, really?"

"Um, _yes_? Have you not noticed who I am? I am _Mello - _like, the epitome of sexy, in case you weren't aware. Have you not _seen_ my ass? Who _doesn't_ want this ass?"

"Me," answered Near.

"Yeah, well, I'm not into bestiality, and you're a gnat, so you don't count."

"I see. Your logic is, of course, impeccable."

Sarcastic bastard.

"My point still stands." I scowled. "If I wanted Matt, I could have him like _that_."

"Really." The gnat looked at me. "How much would you be willing to stake on that, Mello?"

He's not turning this into- "I don't need to prove it to you."

"Hmm," said the gnat, raising his hand to curl a strand of hair around his finger. He thinks that makes him look adorable, but really, it's a disgusting habit. "I think that there's a sixty percent chance that you do not believe you can do it."

"Fuck you!" And then, after a minute pause, "Okay, fine! What're the stakes?"

...Yeah, I should really stop listening to my emotions so often.

"My line of thinking was that if you do not manage it by the time L visits, you will leave me alone for two weeks."

Two weeks? Pfft. Easy. It's not like I enjoy a gnat's company anyway. "Fine. And _when_ I manage it, you have to stop being number one. At least for a couple of months. _And_ while L's here."

"Whatever you feel necessary, Mello."

Yes! This was going to be awesome. All I had to do was make Matt love me, and then, BAM! Number one, you're all mine.

"Uh..." I said. "So... what exactly does 'managing it' constitute...? Do we have to declare ourselves eternally married, or what?"

"I don't know. I know little of relationships." Near blinked slowly. "I think that a kiss will suffice."

Just a kiss?

This is gonna be easier than I thought.

We stood there in silence for a couple of moments, me with my burgling equipment and the gnat hunched up weirdly against the bedclothes.

"...Oh, yeah, you're still going in the sack," I said after a while.

Just because I had a foolproof back-up plan now didn't mean that I needed to stop trying to beat the gnat of my own accord.

Because I'd prefer to be able to do it on my own terms, if I'm honest, rather than the gnat trying to help me.

**Attempt #2**

Once the gnat was unconscious and bound (if there was one thing he forgot, it was that the one class I never fail to top is capoeira and other martial arts), I stuffed him in the sack, trying not to throw up when I touched him.

Then it was off to the shed I went. I'm such a normal child.

Halfway down the stairs, I heard the opening of a door, and I was met with a very unwelcome face.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing up at five a.m.?" I gaped at Roger.

Bothering to censor my language in front of people who can punish me? Not how Mello rolls, baby.

Roger glowered. He, unlike the gnat, looked quite tired, and he was wearing a horrible brown dressing gown, holding a mug of coffee. "I might ask you the same question, Mello. And why are you dressed like a convict?"

Well. That was quite rude, since I was (mostly) wearing what Matt wears every day. Matt's a convict now, is he?

But I needed to get away before the gnat woke up inside the sack, so I didn't have time to argue. Instead, I gave an incredibly angelic smile. "Me and Matty were just playing 'Cops and Robbers', Roger. Obviously I'm the robber, because I usually do more bad things."

Roger raised his eyebrows and looked me up and down. Crazy pervert. "Don't you think you're a little old for those sort of games, Mello? And so early?"

"We couldn't sleep," I replied, undeterred. "Now... I'm sorry, Roger, but he might catch me, so I've really got to keep moving."

"Mello-" said Roger as I tried to escape.

"We'll keep it down!"

"But Mello-"

"Oh. Right." I stopped in my tracks and turned back to him, dashing the coffee out of his hands before he could say anything. "Cheers, Roger!" I yelled over my shoulder as I ran.

I love annoying Roger. Especially when I get something out of it.

Mmm, caffeine.

It wasn't long before I reached the shed. It's the one right at the bottom of the garden, the one with the smashed window - that was some random drunk homeless person - that's half-hidden by trees. None of the staff dare to go near it, which makes it the perfect place to keep things. It's the unofficial Wammy's storehouse.

This is where Matt keeps his motorbike, and it's where Linda keeps the make-up that she's not supposed to wear. I know kids who keep cigarettes and penknives and all sorts that they're not meant to have in here, and when BB was around I remember that the shelves were just completely chock-a-block with pots of jam.

So this is where I'm going to store my gnat.

As I said, I'd already pre-prepared a cage for it. I'm not really sure what you're meant to feed a gnat, so I just chucked a whole bag of hamster food in there and hoped for the best. And 'cause I'm nice, I also put a toy robot in there too, just to keep him entertained.

The gnat was still asleep when I rolled him out of the sack and into the cage. I found one of the knives and cut the ropes that had him tied up, again, 'cause I'm nice.

And then... I locked the door and left.

That should take care of him, then. Now, onto my back-up plan...

Operation Seduce Matt is go.

**Attempt #3**

Shitshitshitshitshitshit...

I went back to check on the gnat later in the afternoon, and he was gone. I forgot that he was intelligent enough to be able to pick locks with knives that I may have left way too close to his cage.

I have a feeling that I'll be getting a lot of evil eyes from Near over the breakfast table from now on.

I hate _everything_.


	7. Method 7: Switch his test paper

_I don't own Death Note. Or a Death Note. My friend does, though. But not a real one. It's cool anyway._

_Ha. I was watching the episode of Death Note where Mello and Near are first introduced again the other day... and Mello goes to Roger: "It'll never work, Roger. You know I don't get along with Near."_

_Yeah. Understatement of the century, Mels XD_

_Well, we're halfway there, everybody! Chapter seven of fourteen. ...Oh, yeah, I suppose I should let you know that this fic _is_ going to be fourteen chapters long, not thirteen - the fourteenth chapter being the day L actually visits, of course :D And as always, my eternal and everlasting thanks to everyone who reviewed (we've hit fifty! I can't believe it, I'm so happy :D) - Citrine Nebulae, Exploading albino potato, FallenHero93, TragicAtBest13, Attack Attack XD, trumpee, boo, SilverWingedRaven, Carottal, Teenage-Vampire-Girl, Dream's Penumbra, XtremeQueen1234, and Guest!_

* * *

**7 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #7  
Switch his test paper**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

And so dawns the day a week until L arrives. This time next week, I imagine that I'll be calmly preparing for my meeting with my mentor and predecessor.

_Matt_ says, "Pfft, Mels, don't lie to yourself - you'll be painting your nails, powdering your nose, and making sure everything's perfect for your little L-kins. And you'll be in a really bitchy mood. I guarantee it."

Screw him.

...Hmm... _speaking_ of Matt and screwing him..

"Hey... Matty..." I sidled up to him - in a very sexy way, thank you very much.

Offensively, he shifted away. "Whoa, Mels, personal space much?"

"But, y'know, Matty... I was wondering..." I persisted anyway. I even threw a bit of an eyelash flutter in there. When he didn't look up - I think he was playing Kingdom Hearts, which explains a fair bit - I decided to just go for it. "Would you ever screw me?"

'Cause I'm the master of subtlety like that.

It didn't take Matt long to answer, and when he did, it wasn't what I had expected. Which is saying something. I had expected, "Ew, Mels, that's creepy." I had expected, "Yes, Mello, I would! I've always loved you!" I had expected, "Uh, no, because I'm into girls, Mels, and you're a guy."

What I got was, "Uh, no, because I'm into guys, Mels, and you're a girl."

I stared at him. The most insulting part was that he hadn't even taken his eyes off Kingdom Hearts.

And, um, _what the fuck?_

I AM A GUY.

"...Okay, _two_ things," I said eventually (and threateningly. I'm scary, you know). "_First_ of all: I _lot_ of _very manly men_ have long hair. Take Kurt Cobain. Fucking. Badass. _Guitarist_. Long hair is for real men, Matty! _Real_ men, got it? And _second _of all: I am simply _skinny_ - I don't have curves, okay? You're just fucking jealous because I can eat and not get fat. And, _third_ of all-"

"That's three things," interrupted Matt, who for some reason was starting to grin.

"Bugger off! _Third_ of all, I _may _have dressed up as a woman that one time, but you know _full_ well that I was drunk off my arse by that point. And I looked hot." I glared. "And _that_, Matt, is my comprehensive list of reasons why I am a manly man, and I- _what_?" Because now Matt was looking very amused indeed, and seeing as I had just poured out the intelligence of my soul to him, the least he could do was listen.

But then the doucheface goes, "You're not going to react at all to the fact that I just told you I'm gay?"

...Wait, what?

"Wait, what?" I said.

"That one passed you by, huh?"

"I-" I blinked. I hate to admit it, but that was a good one. I was momentarily stunned. "You're-?"

"Yup." He grinned ruefully - and then a miracle occured, because he _shut his DS_ and _looked at me_. But then he ruined it by going, "Don't hate me...?"

So I hit him.

Look at what a nice friend I am.

"Dick," I growled. "How do you expect me to hate you when _I'm_ just as fucking gay as you are? Do I _really_ come across as that much of an arsehole?"

Matt shrugged. "_We-ell_..."

Yeah, then I hit him again.

"Ouch," he muttered. "You was supposed to be sweet and accepting, and this was supposed to represent our friendship."

"Dude, this _does_ represent our friendship."

"Oh. Yeah."

I put my hands on my hips. "Listen, Matty. You're in The Mello Club now, so pay attention. Club rules: look tough, act tough, don't hit on club members, and shun Near. Any questions?"

Matt looked at me and raised one eyebrow. "Those are exactly the same 'club rules' as you told me when I moved into your room when we were ten."

Damn. I was hoping that he'd forgotten them. For an idiot, you've got to credit him on his memory.

But then my super-Mello-genius kicked in, and I remembered the bet I'd made with the gnat, the one that sparked this whole conversation. And then I remembered club rule number three: _don't hit on club members_.

After all, if Matt's gay, then that must mean he's into me. There's no other explanation. I don't know a heterosexual girl/homosexual guy alive who doesn't want a piece of Mello. Not being boastful, it's just the truth.

And if _that's_ true, I don't think I can go ahead with the gnat's bet. 'Cause Matt's my best friend, and I'd rather die than mess him about. Hell, he's as important to me as _beating_ the gnat, maybe.

...Wow, that sounded _reeeeeally_ lame.

Moving on.

**Method #2**

As well as being a week before L turns up, today is also the day of the geography test. You know, the one I _thought_ we had when we actually had biology...?

Yeah, don't remind me of that. Bad times.

Well, at least I'm prepared.

Matt's pretty chill about it too, it seems. He was telling me about how he was good at geography or some shit before we went in, but I wasn't really listening, because I was working on an awesome new way to beat the gnat. This time, I'm going to switch his test paper with some really stupid person in the class. Now... who do I know who's really stupid?

...Oh, right, Matt.

I know it's cheating, but frankly, I've done less legal things in my time, and it's only a week 'til L's gets here. I'm getting desperate, okay?

So I did the test. In between the brilliance of my own answers, I kept flicking over to look at the gnat. He actually looked pretty tired. He's getting dark circles under his eyes like L's. That might be something to do with me...

No! Looking like L is one step closer to being him! It can't be allowed! I have to stop this madness quickly!

When we were finished, I volunteered to collect the papers. When I reached the gnat's desk, he looked at me. "How's the bet going?" he asked.

I stole a glance at Matt, whose feet were on the desk (yeah, our teachers have just given up...). "Uh, great," I lied. Was I blushing? No, what the fuck? I don't blush! I'm Mello The Tough, Strong, and Awesome, and blushing is not in my vocabulary. Or, uh, face-cabulary.

So, yeah, I didn't blush.

The gnat gave me the I'm-gonna-look-blank-and-secretly-relish-your-pain face. "You're in love with him," he observed, giving a terrible high-pitched evil laugh. Sort of like a gremlin or something.

...Okay, so I made up the laughing bit, but this is how _I_ interpret events of my life, okay? And in my eyes he evil-laughed.

The worst part was that his claim was so _absurd_ that I didn't know how to contradict it, so I ended up spluttering like an idiot and looking like I was, I don't know, denying my true feelings or something stupid.

In the end, I just snatched up his paper and spat, "Fuck off, Near."

...Oh, good lord.

Something's seriously wrong with me.

I just referred to the gnat as _Near_.

I need therapy.

**Method #3**

Okay, well, for some reason not in any way due to the fact that I may or may not have been freaking out over the stupidity of the gnat's improbably theorems, I sort of forgot to swap Near and Matt's tests around. Ugh, fuck everything.

Looks like I'll have to do a bit more breaking into offices.

I'm not as aquainted with our geography teacher's office as I am with Roger's, so I made a couple of trips in there to scout out likely places where he might be hiding those geography tests. ("Oh, sorry, sir, but I'm lost. Could you direct me towards the toilets?" "Mello, you've lived in this orphanage since you were three." "..." "..." "Sir, may I compliment you on how _delightful_ your perm is looking today?" "_Out_, Mello.")

Then I waited until he went to lunch before I struck. I swear I'm like an insane ninja snake.

But when I climbed in through the window (some may describe it as a wild scramble, but trust me, it was an epic climb) I got a moderate to large surprise.

"Um, Matt, _what_ are you doing here?" I frowned. "You got a geography teacher fetish or something?"

Matt gaped. "Whu- Mels- oh, forget it, I'm not even going to ask. Is this something to do with Near again?"

Was he stupid? Was it not obvious? "Well, yeah, of course, I'm switching his test around," I said impatiently. "But you haven't answered my question as to why _you're_ interrupting the process."

"I got a detention the other day, remember?"

"So?"

"_So_," said Matt slowly, like I was an idiot, "I've come to recieve my rightful punishment for partaking in the sinful sport of gaming during lessons."

Hmm. That's strange. I've never actually got a detention, just threats, and I always thought that they took place in the Wammy's dungeons.

I told Matt this, and he was like, "What Wammy's dungeons?"

Huh. Well. Anyway.

"That's not the point at hand here." Because it wasn't. "Do you know where the test papers are?"

"No, 'cause-"

"Ugh, well, you're useless." I had already opened several drawers and started rifling through them, because I have little faith in Matt, to be honest.

There were lots of rather boring-looking documents in those drawers, which was disappointing, but because I'm amazing, I quickly found our class's tests. They were on the desk, and it was vaguely embarrassing when Matt pointed them out to me, but still.

I made quick work of finding Matt's and the gnat's tests and changing the names around on them.

"Wait, hang on, why are you swapping it for mine?" Matt said, sounding ever so slightly offended as he peered over my shoulder. "Do you really think he's going to fall for that? Look at the difference in handwriting, for a start."

I looked at it. Hmm. Well. Matt's got a huge, disgusting, dark messy scrawl, and the gnat's handwriting is painfully tiny and neat. If you were looking at them with your eyes closed, maybe you could mistake them for each other... er.

I was about to make some remark questioning the intelligence of our geography teacher, when my fantastically sharp ears caught the sound of the worst thing to hear when you're invading an office - footsteps.

"Shit," I whispered. I cast around wildly, and my eyes alighted on- "Cupboard, Matty!"

Matt jumped when I caught his wrist and dragged him towards the cupboard. "But wait, I'm here legally! Why do I need to-" But it was too late, 'cause we were in this shit together, man, and damn if he wasn't going to act like a good friend now and get into this cupboard with me.

And then we were in the cupboard.

...Cramped cupboard is cramped. And dark. And very, very close.

Which doesn't bother me a smidgen, of course, but, you know, it might bother Matt. Especially now I know he's into me, and everything.

Oh, fuck. He's so close that his hair's tickling me. I can feel his heart beating near my shoulder.

The door of the office creaked open and I heard the geography teacher stroll in. Moron. He's so inconsiderate. Didn't he realise that I was in the middle of a very important operation when he just rudely interrupted?

Seriously, though, I hope he doesn't stay long. This awkward position could get slightly uncomfortable after a while.

Thing is, that demon called fate seemed to have other ideas. Five minutes into our silent wait, I felt a fingernail prod me.

"What?" I whispered, barely moving my lips.

Matt shifted so that his mouth was right next to my ear. "You're It," he grinned softly.

..Ooh, bring it, bitch.

Poke. "You're It."

Poke. "You're It."

Poke. "You're It."

Poke. "_You're_ It."

Poke. "_You_ are fuckin' It!"

Poke. "Uh, actually, _you're_ It."

Poke. "Bitch, please, _you're It_."

Poke. "Oh, yeah? You're It!"

Poke. "You're It!"

Poke. "You're It!"

Stab. "YOU ARE IT, MATTY."

Stab. "MELLO, YOU ARE IT."

Stab. "YOU'RE NOT GONNA WIN THIS. JUST GIVE IT UP, BECAUSE YOU ARE FUCKING I-"

"Ahem."

I hadn't noticed that our dark cupboard had suddenly welcomed in a whole lot more light. And that, uh, maybe we were shouting a tiny bit more loudly than we should have been doing, seeing as we were hiding and everything. But I did, now, notice that our geography teacher was standing there staring at us, wearing an 'I'm-waiting-for-you-to-tell-me-why-you're-straddling-your-friend-in-my-office' face.

"There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything," I assured him.

Matt was slightly red. "Mels," he hissed. "Get the fu-" Then he stopped, because, unlike me, he has a social filter for these things. "Get the hell off me," he said instead.

Oh, yeah. He likes me. Crap.

It's okay, though, because our geography teacher is cool. Even though there's a vein going in his temple right now, and his expression is a tad strained, it's okay, because he's cool. He'll let us off. We'll be fine.

Um.

"Mello," he said. What? Why me? Why _always_ me? Jeez, you'd think that I was crazy or something, with how the teachers in this place treat me. "Matt." Oh, he's going to shout at Matt, too. That's okay, then. "I hope you know that we do not condone that sort of language or behaviour in this institution."

Whoa, Freudian slip there, much? He _is_ calling us insane. We don't live in a school, we don't live in an establishment... Oh no, we live in an _institution_.

Ha. That could totally work if I was ever going to storm out of here. 'I'm leaving this institution!' Cue awesome slam of door. Yeah, that'd be badass.

Anyway.

We had to listen to the geography teacher go on for a while about language and behaviour and behaviour and language and Serious Consequences, then he made Matt's detention a double one (ha!) and sent me away.

I'm so amazing at getting out of trouble. He didn't even comment on the switched test papers.

Just as planned...

Whoa, I sound evil.

...That could work, too.


	8. Method 8: Poison him

_Thanks a squillion times over to Exploading albino potato, SilverWingedRaven, Citrine Nebulae, TragicAtBest13, Cerca, and ChieLuvsBleach for sparing the time to leave me a review ^^ How I love you guys. __And, as always, I don't own, I'm afraid._

_Warning: swearing. Like, more than usual. I think. It's Mello and Matt, so it's difficult to tell. But Mello does seem to swear an uncanny amount in this chapter, so beware._

_Also, I'm going away next Saturday, so if I don't get any more chapters up in the next week, don't expect any more for a while. Especially since I start college really soon after I get back, which I can foresee eating my life __

_This chapter is freaking long, by the way XD_

* * *

**6 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #8  
Poison him**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

We got our geography tests back. I was totally ready for the gnat to have failed, and I was doing the satisfied lean-back-in-your-chair when our geography teacher read out the results, from the bottom up.

"Barry, fifty-four percent, Josie, fifty-eight percent, Linda, sixty-seven percent..."

Come on. Come on. I'm waiting. I'm waiting for you to say that Mello's number one. I'm waiting. Come on.

"...Alice, eighty-nine percent, Mello, ninety-six percent, Matt, ninety-eight percent, Near, ninety-nine percent."

...Wait, WHAT THE FUCK?!

"But I switched-!" I cried in outrage. "But... But... This isn't possible. But- Matt, what did you _do_?!"

Matt shrugged. "Mels, I told you I was good at geography."

"But- but you're _stupid_!"

"I think you'll find that actually, I'm number three. When I'm _not_ trying." The bitch grinned and threw an arm around my shoulders. "Love you, Mels!"

"Hmm." The gnat gazed at his test paper, which was actually Matt's. "I must have been having an off day..."

Curse this hell-hole that they call school to the deepest pits of despair until it is bleeding and blue and shall never resurface. Only then will I be satisfied that righteous justice has been served on those demons they call the smart ones.

I think I have problems.

**Attempt #2**

This gnat thing is getting serious. Like, really serious. And you know how I know that?

I'm bringing chocolate into it.

...I know.

To put it into simple terms, I'm going to poison the gnat. Really ill people don't get to see super-detectives, even if they are number one in line to succeed said super-detective, for fear that they might pass on their horrific disease to said super-detective, which would be unacceptable. _So_, if that _were_ to happen to said first-in-line, the _second_-in-line would have to be introduced as the first-in-line. Just to keep up appearances.

Screw the fact that L's already met us. This is going to work, bitches.

"Hey, gnat..." I said to the gnat after geography, "you like chocolate, right?"

I'd like to point out that this is one of those rare times where I, Mello, ask a stupid question. _Everyone_ likes chocolate. Even gnats like chocolate. There is not a comprehensible existence on this planet that does not like chocolate.

The gnat said, "No."

You see? Exactly as I said, even gnats can't resist the delectable- wait.

"Did you just say... _no_?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Yes," said the gnat.

"Yes? Yes, you do like it?"

"No."

"No, you do?"

"Yes, I don't."

"You what? Do you or don't you?"

"Mello." The gnat looked up from the Rubik's cube that he was trying to solve. "I don't like chocolate. It leaves a funny taste in my mouth, and it isn't good for you."

And then the fury of the heavens descended on the gnat, and he was burnt in the fiery pits of hell and was never seen again for his blasphemous talk.

If only what I thought in my mind was actually real...

"You _revolt_ me," I told the gnat bluntly. "You actually physically _repulse _me. I have nothing more to say to you. Begone, pest!"

I left.

Slightly contradictory to the 'begone', but oh well.

**Attempt #3**

Matt found me trying to dig up a hawthorn bush with my bare hands in the rain at approximately seven minutes past two today. It looks more mental than it is, trust me.

Trouble is, Matt didn't believe that. "Mels, you're a nutter."

"How rude," I said, blinking rain out of my eyes and continuing to scrabble. I was pretty muddy by this point, which wasn't very cool, but this was an emergency. "This is an emergency," I told Matt, just in case he couldn't actually read thoughts.

"Oh, yeah? What's the emergency? Oh, wait, let me guess - you've got to beat Near. And somehow, your whacked-up mind is telling you that this is the best way for you to do it."

"In a nutshell, yeah." Okay, so there's no way to deny it. I sound pretty crazy. But... "Listen, Matt, can I tell you a secret?"

Matt looked at me. Even through those bloody goggles he's so taken with wearing at the minute, I could see his eyebrows going up. "I thought we established that when we tell each other secrets, we just end up smashing each other's faces in."

"What are you talking abou-" I halted. Oh. _Oh_. "Is this about yesterday?"

The second he broke eye contact, I could tell that, yes, this was indeed about yesterday. Maybe I should have acted a bit more sensitive about the whole 'I'm gay! Yayz!' thing. "What about yesterday?" he muttered halfheartedly.

There's a reason he didn't score well in Art of Concealment class.

"You know fucking well 'what about yesterday'," I snapped. I got out of the hole. It was still raining. We were both soaked. "Are you angry with me?"

"Angry with you?" Matt shoved his hands into his pockets, which can't have been a pleasant experience, because everything was cold and utterly saturated. How I love the Great British weather. "The world doesn't revolve around you, y'know, Mels."

Oh, really? I thought it did.

"Then what's with the mood?"

"I'm angry with myself," Matt mumbled, still refusing to look me in the eye.

"The fuck? Why?"

"'Cause," was his incredibly frustrating answer. It was tempting to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until I could hear his teeth rattling around in that empty head of his, but I resisted.

"'Cause _what_?" I demanded. "What does this have to do with you telling me you're gay? Come on, Matty, out with it, or I'm going to keep on annoying you."

Matt kind of shuffled his feet around for a bit before he answered. I wished he'd hurry up. Getting cold, here.

And then, at long last, "'Cause... I think I'm about to end something that's really important. And I'm... uh, I'm a bit scared, Mels."

I blanched. Oh, shit. He was coming at me with all this emotional crap, and that's something which I'm _really_ fucking bad at. I can do a hug, but that's about my limit.

And anyway, what the fuck? He was going to end something that's really important? What, the first season of Supernatural? Well, that's sad and everything, but everyone moves onto season two at some stage... It's just something which the world has to deal with.

What I eventually came out with, when the silence started getting awkward, was a very intellectual, "Oh." And then, as Matt was still looking all 'Comfort me, good friend!', I fell back on, "Want a hug?"

Matt scratched his head and considered it. But, seriously, no-one passes up the Mello hugs. "Yeah," he admitted.

I think he forgot that I was a trifle muddy. But that didn't really matter, I suppose - he was drenched, after all.

It was a proper hug, too. Screw those 'man-hugs' that involve vaguely patting each other on the back. We are men, and as men, we hug like girls.

"You're not going to ask?" Matt said into my shoulder. Well, actually, that's a lie, 'cause he's taller than me now. So it was sort of _over _my shoulder, but... details.

"...No," I answered, after a couple of seconds of thought. Yup, today's Mello-mood is super-sensitive. "Uh, well, unless you particularly want to tell me...?" I took the ensuing silence as a no. Offensive, but I expected as much. "Sure you're not mad at me?"

I have to admit, it was pretty skilled of Matt to kick me in the shin and not break the hug.

"Ow!"

"Well, we're even now," he said. "But, nah, I'm not mad. Unlike you. You're fucking insane."

It suddenly struck me how forgiving of a friend Matt must be. I mean, sure, he's not _quite_ on my intelligence level and he can be a bitch, but I'm pretty sure _my_ bitch outstrips _his_ bitch by about twenty times, and I'm probably exponentially more of a pain in the arse to live with, if I'm totally honest.

So fuck it, I'm going to be sweet and accepting, like my Matty wanted.

"Matty, you know I love you whatever, right?"

"Whoa, sudden burst of nice. Should I be concerned about your temperature?"

"Fuck off. All I'm sayig is you can tell me whatever, and you'll still be my bitch."

"...Sorry?"

Whoops, I meant to say 'my Matt'.

Meh, 'my bitch' works, too.

"You know it's true."

Matt rolled his eyes. "...Yeah."

I glanced back over to the hole. I'd made quite a bit of headway with it before Matt came along, but now it was getting all soggy with rain...

"So," said Matt, breaking the hug, "what was the secret you wanted to tell me?"

Oh, right! Before we all descended into the lumps of mush you see here today. Back when I was a man. "This, Matty... this elaborate hiding place here... this is where I keep my stash of chocolate."

Yes, I know, I'm a genius. But we've already established this fact. It's like saying 'the Earth is round', really. _So_ obvious.

But Matt made a face. "That's disgusting, Mels."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't keep it underground! It'll get all... bleh!"

"That sort of language, Matty, is why I am number one while you are number three."

"Mels, you're number two."

I smirked. "Not for long." I stepped back into the hole. "Help me poison a gnat?"

Matt gave me the sort of look which means 'You're-absolutely-crackers-and-I-feel-like-your-mother'. And then he grinned and jumped into the hole. "You're on."

Once we found the chocolate (turns out, I buried that stuff freaking deep - I'm gonna have fun explaining _that_ hole in the lawn to Roger) the next step was figuring out what to poison it with. The choices offered in a south England orphanage are very limited, and I don't actually want to _kill_ him. I'm not _quite_ at that level of desperation yet.

What we settled on, in the end, was a suggestion of Matt's.

Socks.

Readers of this journal, you may have an expression of puzzlement on your faces right now. You may be wondering thoughts along the lines of, _What the heck? _Or maybe even language stronger than that. Depends on your age, really. Although if you're above thirty or below twelve, I honestly wonder why _my_ near-constant use of the profanity hasn't advised you away by now.

Anyway, I'm off topic now, damn it.

The _point_ is, if you're wondering why we're using socks to poison the gnat, then just trust me on this one. You haven't smelt Matt's socks.

They are death incarnate, I tell you. Death. Incarnate.

And then came the tricky matter of trying to get the poison-of-sock into the chocolate. In case you haven't noticed, that's the brilliance of the plan. Nobody would suspect that _I_ would have sullied my chocolate with poison to get at the gnat. But what they don't know is (don't tell anyone this, or I'll have to strangle you, wherever you live) I value L's opinion more than I value chocolate.

I don't think that anybody really grasped the seriousness of this situation before I made that clear, right?

Anyhow, we came up for lots of ways in which we could incorporate the sock into the chocolate.

Mello's idea #1: "We could get him to eat the chocolate... and then while he was eating it, you could grab his jaw... yeah, yeah, you getting me? Grab his jaw, then force it open and stuff the sock inside!"

Matt's idea #1: "We could cut up the sock into little bits and-" "This sounds like a stupid idea already."

Mello's idea #2: "We could melt down _all_ of the chocolate and bake the sock into it!"

Matt's idea #2: "We could melt the-" "La-ame! This idea's been done before, Mattikins!"

Mello's idea #3: "We could dissolve the sock in really strong acid, add lots of chemical thingys, and make a perfume called... wait for it... wait for it... Essence of Sock! And then we could spray that all over the chocolate!"

Matt's idea #3: "Screw this, I have no more ideas. I just want to listen to more of yours, they're fucking hilarious."

In the end, we decided to use my second idea, because, as Matt said, "It's the only one you'd agree with in which we can't be accused of molesting Near or making a chemical weapon."

However, we don't have any cooking/melting/baking utensils in our room, so it was down to the kitchen we trotted, equipped with chocolate and a suitably disgusting sock. Unfortunately, when we got down there, we saw that a bunch of five-year-olds were having a 'cooking lesson' or something unimportant.

"Sorr-eee, coming through," I said loudly, attempting to barge past. I was stopped by the hand of the teacher on my shoulder.

"Excuse me," she began. Oh, I can see what's coming. "But this is a lesson." Like they're fucking sacred or something. Now, if it was a church sermon, things would be different. But as it was...

"Yeah, well noticed." Honestly, I didn't mean to sound so sarcastic. But there were only a few precious hours of today left, and I still needed to feed this stuff to the gnat once it was done.

Matt, hero that he is, quickly butted in before the teacher's face could go more purple than it already was. "Er, sorry about him. He's... special."

Special? Is that all he can come up with? _Special_?

"Special?" repeated the teacher. "As in...?"

It should worry me that this isn't the first time I've been referred to a mental hospital.

"Oh," she said suddenly. "I know who you are. Mello, yes? I've heard a lot about you from some of my colleagues."

The five-year-olds were all blinking up at me, all with, unbelievably, exactly the same expressions of blank adorable on their faces. I tried not to throw up. "That's me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got something very important to-"

"Mels," hissed Matt.

"What?"

Matt nodded downwards. I looked.

There was a tiny kid tugging at my trousers. Probably one of the most adorable of the lot, actually. Messy hair, huge dark eyes, the works. Ew.

"Whaddaya want, kid?" I asked. Kindly, obviously.

"You'we Mewwo?" the kid asked. Lisped. Whatever.

"Uh, actually, I'm Mello. But sure."

Another kid latched onto my other leg. _Not_ too sure I'm cool with this...

"You'we the thmartetht here, Mewwo! In- in the whole world!" squeaked the second kid. She looked at the teacher with worried eyes, like she was concerned she'd got it wrong. "R-right?"

...Aw, I love kids.

Me and Matt promptly spent the next three quarters of an hour baking cupcakes with a disgruntled teacher and like, twenty kids who, no joke, fucking idolised me. It's like they forgot Near even existed or something. I didn't know how legendary I was in this place.

My favourite bit was this one:

"So, kids," said Matt, all high and mighty, "do you know who _I_ am?"

They stared at him blankly. "No."

Eventually, the class came to an end, and the five-year-olds trundled off to take a nap, or whatever shit five-year-olds do these days. As she followed them, the teacher gave me a bit of a glare, which I found very offensive - after all, I had just entertained her class for the better part of an hour baking chocolate cupcakes with extra chocolate chips and chocolate icing and vanilla sprinkles. (What? You can't _just _eat chocolate _all_ the time. Gross.)

It was at that point that I noticed what time it was, jumped out of my skin, and demanded to know why we had wasted so much time.

I swear, I need to get diagnosed or something.

Anyhowitzer, Matt and I quickly set to work making our... er, creation. Matt melted the chocolate in the saucepan (in an alleged attempt to stop me simulateously burning it and eating it) and I prepared the sock. Well... maybe 'prepared the sock' is a bit of an exaggeration, since, for all intents and purposes, it was pretty much already 'prepared'. So what I mostly did was sit around eating a spare bar of chocolate ("Where the fuck were you hiding _that_?" "You don't wanna know, Matty, you don't wanna know.") and command Matt to 'melt faster, bitch'.

When the chocolate was all done, we (and here 'we' constitutes 'Matt') dropped the revolting sock into it. It's such a waste, I think I might cry. But it's okay, because it's all for the cause of justice. I think.

Sock nicely mixed in, I - yes, I actually did _something_ - spooned the mixture into a bowl and stuck it in the fridge. Really, the Wammy's fridge is something to behold. When I opened it, I saw one lone packet of strawberries sitting all healthily at the bottom, being smothered by the amount of sugar in there. Sixteen boxes of sugar cubes, a huge vanilla-strawberry cake, seven packets (and I mean the big ones, here) of Skittles, and an entire jar of lollipops were just the start. Why some of that stuff was in the fridge I don't even know. Wammy and Roger are obviously stocking up for L's visit. You'd think he was staying for two weeks instead of two hours.

I wrote, "Property of Mello. Do not touch, gnat." on a piece of paper and placed it on top of the chocolate-sockful bowl. This is my elaborate theory of reverse psychology - when _I_ see something belonging to the gnat, I always want to eat or break it, as a natural instinct. Surely the opposite will ring true.

Then we retired to our room to celebrate my eternal awesomeness in finally squashing the gnat.

Mission: accomplished.

Or so I freaking thought.

I returned to the fridge several hours later to peek in and see if the gnat had touched the 'chocolate'. What I found was that my note had been turned over and written on.

"Dear Mello,

I've already told you that I dislike chocolate, and if you genuinely thought that I wouldn't notice that you've added Matt's sock to this particular concoction, I believe that it is time for me to become seriously worried for your health.

Also, at this rate, you will lose our bet. Personally, I hope you succeed, because I do not wish to witness you staring at Matt's behind again like I did this morning. Maybe in future you can reserve that sort of behaviour for the bedroom.

Sincerely, Near."

The gnat was seriously lucky that this was a note and he wasn't actually present when I read it, otherwise I might have had to explain why there was a body in the freezer tomorrow.

For the last time - and let's hope I don't have to say it again, okay? I DON'T LIKE MATT. Well, actually, I love him, obviously, and he's adorable as hell, but that's all. Okay? Okay, gnat? Listening? I'm so going to punch that albino creep in the head next time I see him. And I'll make sure that he's standing in front of something large and solid when I do.

All I could do to take out my anger at that point, really (it was eleven o' clock at night by this time, and I never _ever_ want the experience of seeing Roger in his dressing gown again) was crumple up the note and furiously take a bite out of my... chocolate... hang on...

Shit.

Thanks to the fact that I wasted it all trying to poison the gnat, I have now officially run out of chocolate.

WORST. DAY. OF MY LIFE.

Cue freaking out for about forty-five minutes. Actually, make that an hour.

How do normal humans survive consuming a normal amount of sugar? I'm going to die. I'm not even kidding. Look into my eyes and tell me I'm kidding.

It's biologically likely that I probably _will_ die, too, you know. Because the cells in my body have been gradually introduced to what, admittedly, is an overload of chocolate, they're now used to it. Take away the sugar, and more water will enter my body cells via the process of osmosis, and they won't be able to cope, and therefore will explode.

And I'll just, you know, die.

I've had to resort to stealing a giant lollipop that I found lying around, instead. It probably wasn't mine. It was one of the ones in the fridge, so I'm guessing it was for L. I should probably feel bad about stealing L's sweets, but I'm so close to death-through-lack-of-sugar that actually, I don't care.

It's so much more difficult to eat lollipops than it is to eat chocolate. I've been licking this damn thing for a good four hours now (yes, I have spent four hours alone in a dark kitchen desperately licking a lollipop. I'm cool, I promise), and I've made no more than a small dent. And I've also genuinely pulled a muscle in my tongue. You can laugh, but it hurts like a bitch, and I'm avoiding speaking, because I'm probably lisping like an idiot.

It's because my tongue isn't used to it. I don't generally get a lot of tongue action in this orphanage.

This is why I need a boyfriend.

Eventually, when I went back to my room (having given up on the lollipop), I got a slightly strange, unrelated surprise.

I found Matt buried in a beanbag with a box of tissues, watching some cartoon on TV and sobbing his eyes out.

This is very important to note: Matt. Never. Cries.

I take it Matty's having an emotional day.

I stared.

It was a moment before Matt noticed I was there. When he did, to his credit, he didn't try to pretend he wasn't having a weep. He just looked at me, then pointed at the screen (where a pink-haired cartoon dude was lying in a pool of blood) and trembled, "Raikou died, Mels!"

Not entirely sure how to respond now that the pink-haired dude's friends (some blonde chick and a dark-haired midget with fluffy hair) were shouting grief-strickenly (shut up) at the guy's killer, I just said, "He did...?" Oh, I'm not lisping, thank fuck.

Matt nodded, chewing his lip. "That bitch Hattori killed him just 'cause he was trying to rescue Miharu and Yoite from the Kairoshuu and I know Hattori's the leader of the Kairoshuu but he's still a fucking bitch 'cause he only wants Miharu 'cause he wants the freakin' hijutsu and Raikou tried to save them because Yoite saved Gau's life and Raikou like, _loves_ Gau and yeah basically Hattori's a bitch and I am CRYING."

"Raikou!" screeched the blonde chick from the TV screen.

"You killed him!" wailed the tufty-haired kid.

I had not got a clue what Matt was on about, but I got the impression that the pink-haired dude was dead and Hattori was a bitch.

...Whoever that was.

So I grinned and pulled up the beanbag next to Matt. "I never knew you were into girly anime."

"Fuck off, this is freakin' shounen."

"Isn't that, like, gay stuff?" I wrinkled my nose. "Never knew you were into that, either."

"That's shounen-ai, douchebag. Shounen's fighting and stuff."

"Good. 'Cause that's gross."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "As if you've got room to talk, Mr I-Like-It-Up-The-"

"Leave. Now. We are not having this conversation. Fuck off."

"_You _fuck the fuck off." Matt was still crying, but he was starting to grin by now.

"Fuck the fucking fuck off," I replied offhandly.

"Fuck the fucking fuck off and fuck you."

"Fuck you too. And your mother."

"In my bed."

"With a giraffe."

"And a blobfish."

"What the fuck?"

"On a mushroom, bitch."

"With pringles."

"And marshmallows."

"And a packet of skittles."

"Taste the fucking rainbow."

"What are we on about?"

"Fuck knows." Matt wriggled and sunk down further into his beanbag. "But nothing matters now that Raikou is dead."

I snickered. "Crybaby."

"Fuck you."

"Do you want to start this again?"

"Shut up, Mels, I'm trying to watch," he muttered, eyes now glued to the screen. His knees were hunched up almost to his chin.

He's so adorable sometimes, it kills.

...Oh, shit.

I've just thought of something horrible.

I never thought I'd say this, but maybe the gnat's right.

Maybe I _do _like Matt.

_Shit_.

* * *

_This is quickly turning into a Mello/Matt fic. I can't control it T_T XD And yes, I just threw Nabari in there at you. I'm sorry. It's my favourite manga, and I had to have Matt watching _something_ I understood... :D_


	9. Method 9: Blow up Wammy's

_Thank you to ChieLuvsBleach (YES :D Come over to the dark side...), Imaginefun, SilverWingedRaven, Little-Blue-Tiger, FallenHero93, Guest, TragicAtBest13, ScarredScareCrow, ArrancarRayflo, and Carrotal (you are SO right about Mello/Matt) for reviewing :D I'm so glad everyone still likes this._

_And someone, please... spare me from the agony of having sixty-nine reviews. 'Cause I'm immature like that, lulz~_

_Don't own anything in this whole fanfic. Except the plot, I guess, which is, uh... interesting..._

* * *

**5 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #9  
Blow up Wammy's**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

Today I am going to blow up Wammy's House Orphanage for Talented Children.

Don't look at me like that.

Yes, I've got the explosives. Yes, they are _quite_ explosive. But this plan, I swear, is being carried out with the very serious condition that _no one will be hurt_. Or maimed. Or killed. Or even greviously injured, okay? Can you breathe now? Jeez, I've already said that I don't actually want to kill the gnat, haven't I? I'm not a psychopath just yet.

I've already _told_ Matt that about ten times, and he's still saying, "You know you could be arrested, right?"

To which I keep replying, "You know you sound like the gnat, right?"

Speaking of Matt, I'm officially on Subtle Avoidance Mode with him until I figure out what's going on in my head, and, if I'm right about what I think I think, until I stop sulking about the fact that Near has to be right about damn well everything.

Just as a quick insight, this is what my brain looks like right now (aside from all the genius):

One one hand, I am just cursing Matt and his uncanny cuteness.

On the other hand, I am furiously denying any attraction I may or may not have towards that kid. Because I am _Mello_, and I am _strong_. And the last time I liked anyone was L back when I was, like, twelve, and that, uh... that ended badly. It involved cake.

And on one foot ('cause I am just that anatomically accurate), I don't want to _lie_ to myself. That could likewise get painful. Generally speaking, I am fairly honest with myself. And other people. Example: I hate Near. I idolise L. I think that Linda is actually a goblin and that she's been hiding the truth from us. I tell these people these things on a regular basis. Why should Matt be any different, just because I... I...

Oh, buttersticks.

Maybe I should just become a panda and live in the wild and chew on bamboo forever. That would save all the unnecessary hands and feet and goblins.

Back to the explosives before my head combusts.

I've hidden the dynamite and whatever else there is in those explosives in the centre of Wammy's - the dining room. I mean this in both a metaphorical and a literal sense. This morning, Linda asked what on earth was underneath the table, at which point I pulled out the infamous 'Linda has problems' line and chivvied everyone off to lessons.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Anyway, for once _I_ had no intention of going to lessons. I scurried back to our room to fish out the giant red button that had come with the explosives. It looked incredibly menacing. I had _every_ intention of pressing it once the time came.

I still can't believe that I got a real-life _big red button_. Sometimes, things are just so insanely cool that they cannot be put into words.

I almost pocketed it, and then I thought, no. It would probably press itself while I walked (the clothes I wear aren't exactly what you'd call _loose-fitting_) and then, to put it bluntly, we'd all be fucked.

The fire alarm is located outside every bathroom at Wammy's. Don't ask me why Watari chose the bathrooms. Every kid knows where to find them, perhaps? Are fires are most commonly started in bathrooms or something? With the amount of, uh, _accidents_ some kids have in this orphanage, as well as the amount of water in bathrooms as a rule, I'd have to vouch for both of those being false.

Anyway, the important thing is that _I_ know where the things were. _I'm_ not one of those 'accident kids', thanks.

I stared at the thing outside our bathroom for a few moments. Red, a little box on the wall, with 'Press here for alarm' written on the glass.

Press?

Screw that.

Seriously, though, how many people do they expect to _press_ the glass like a good little citizen in the situation that calls for it? This is a _fire alarm._ How many people see a fire and think, "Oh, I believe I should now calmly press this alarm"? I can think of a total of one: the gnat, and maybe Roger. Anyone else would be freaking out and bashing the thing with a chair.

Which is precisely what I did, of course. For fun, not because there was anything dangerous nearby.

Well. The explosives in the dining room don't count.

At once, the bell started going off. That thing is fucking loud. I hoped for little sprinklers too, but I was disappointed.

Ah, no, wait, there they are. Good thing I'm wearing a hoodie - protect the hair, _protect the hair_!

Crap! Matt's DS just started to fizz. He's not going to be impressed about that. I might refuse to buy him a new one, though, on the grounds that he complained last time. Pink is manly, as I've explained over and over.

By now, I could hear the rest of the building starting to evacuate ("Keep calm, everybody! Walk in _single file, no talki-_" "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! AAARGH!"), so I decided it was high time I got out of there. I grabbed Matt's Game Boy Advance to appease him when everything exploded.

Goodbye, bedroom. It was nice knowing you.

And for the final time - I'm not going to kill anyone, alright?

**Attempt #2**

"Mello. Mello. Mello, wake up."

The moment I heard that voice, I decided that I must be having some horrific, freaky nightmare, because it didn't belong to anyone who I would have been pleased to see. It wasn't even Linda or Roger.

Guessed it already, have you? Yeah. It was the gnat.

I also happened to notice, once I opened my eyes, that I was in the middle of Winchester. Lying right underneath the statue of King Alfred, in fact, with car drivers giving me odd looks as they zoomed on by and a motorbike lying semi-smashed nearby.

"Ugh..." I sat up reluctantly and rubbed my head. "What the fuck happened?"

The gnat looked at me disapprovingly. At least, I think he did. It was hard to tell, because usually he's so blank that emotions don't really compute on his face. "You attempted to detonate explosives in the centre of Wammy's House."

Oh, yeah.

"As the orphanage was evacuating due to the fire drill, you sprinted out, shrieked at everyone to stay calm, counted everybody present, and then ran away. You returned on the back of a motorbike and crashed into a tree. I presume that this caused you to become delirious, because you then took me by the hand, referring to me as 'Matt' and pulled me onto the motorbike. You also pressed your belly-button and claimed that the building would shortly explode, after which you climbed aboard the motorbike and sped away. Presently, you fainted and crashed into the statue of King Alfred."

When the gnat finally shut up, I almost felt a little bit sorry for him. He looked shellshocked. I mean, Matt's used to this kind of shit from me by now, but Near's a different kettle of fish altogether.

Then I realised that I'd practically held hands with the gnat and almost died from overload of disgust.

That, and I'd saved _him_ and left Matt and everyone else, possibly to die. And I'd wrecked Matt's motorbike. Shit. If he wasn't dead, he was going to be pissed.

Speaking of which, where the hell was that big red button?

"Gnat," I said, speaking as politely as the circumstances would allow while starting to grope frantically in all of my pockets (the looks from the passing drivers started to get _seriously_ weird now), "have you seen a big red button?"

"You mean the one that you dropped at the orphanage?" replied the gnat, twiddling with his hair and seeming totally unaffected by the fact that he was standing in the middle of a city. "Yes. Roger picked it up and was shouting at you before you left."

Oh.

I'm in shit.

"But wait- hang on- did he press it?"

The gnat stared at me calmly. "As I was on the back of a motorbike being kidnapped at frankly illegal speeds due to an embarrassing case of mistaken identity, I'm afraid I have no idea."

The most awkward thing about this is that my thinking that Near was Matt was probably more due to adrenaline than hitting that tree. It's been done before - remember the wooden board?

I was about to run off back to Wammy's and save the day before any total and complete idiots (because, obviously, in a houseful of genii, that's exactly what they all are) could press the button and explode twenty-five lives clean off the surface of the planet, but the gnat stopped me by casually saying, "Why did you want to save Matt above the rest of us?"

I froze.

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit.

I do not want to have this conversation. Not now. Not with the gnat.

I stood there like a fish for several moments, waiting for an adequate answer to introduce itself to my brain. You know, for a mastermind, I really do have my moments of, uh... lesser intelligence.

Eventually, Near said, "Logically, you would wish to save us all - or, at least, that would be your plan. But in the event that the blast was larger than you expected, you would only be able to rescue one person on the back of that motorbike. Even though you ended up taking me, in actuality you had intended to choose Matt. Why?"

By this time, my mind had come up with several responses.

'Matt's my best friend.'

'Matt's the only person at Wammy's I can halfway tolerate.'

'It's Matt's motorbike.'

'If I didn't save his arse now he'd bitch at me for eternity when we're both in heaven/hell.'

Good. Lots of reasonable answers to the question asked, and nothing there to potentially embarrass me.

...Oh, wait.

"Because I fucking love him, okay?" I spat roughly.

WAIT, WHAT DID I JUST SAY?

Thought to speech? Does not compute, apparently.

"I know," said the gnat, unfazed.

I stared. Okay. Wait. I didn't just say that. Okay, no. I _did_ just say that. And he's acting like Mr Smartass? He- no. No. Just no. "Then why did you fuckin' ask?" I asked, more than a tad aggressively.

"I wanted to hear it from your mouth."

What. A. Prick.

"Okay, that's it, you're not getting a lift home," I snapped, standing up, straightening myself out, and swinging my leg back over the motorbike. It roared into life, and I drove away, acting exactly as though I hadn't just confessed a love I didn't know I had and that I'm still not totally cool with.

Because Mello is calm. Mello is smart.

...Mello just caused a slight car accident as he swerved into a major Winchester roundabout with no warning, but apart from that, he is _ever_ so dignified, got it?

**Attempt #3**

Oh, dear.

I got a rather large telling-off from Roger about the explosives. And the big red button - which, surprisingly, he wasn't stupid enough to press. There are lots of men in yellow jackets carefully transporting the 'dangerous' substances away from the building now. Hmph. It wasn't like anyone was going to get _hurt_.

Roger didn't believe that, unfortunately enough. He's promised to install security cameras into my room at the earliest possible opportunity, and I've been fitted with a tiny camera myself, to be clipped to the front of my shirt. Apparently I'm now too 'high-risk'. Personally, I find it highly invasive and very irritating. I also feel sorry for the poor kid who has to sit there watching my day-to-day activities. I know I'm amazing and everything, but seriously, who wants to sit for hours on end watching me throw bits of paper at Matt and swear? (Which is basically my life.)

It took me a little longer than expected to get back to the orphanage, though. I felt really quite bad about virtually smashing up Matt's precious motorbike (it was still workable, but, well... Let's just say that it wasn't as pretty as it had been before) so I drove it into the repairs shop, paid (with my own money, thank you!) and walked the rest of the way back. Then I got lost. To put it bluntly.

In my defence, Winchester is a big place. And I'm not often let out of the house.

By the time I found Wammy's again, the gnat was already back. How he walked there so quickly is a mystery I may never solve.

After Roger had finished yelling at me (for twenty-seven minutes; I'm not kidding) and tootled off to fetch the mini camera, I saw Matt walking towards me with a deeply thoughtful look on his face. Usually, this shouldn't have been something to bother me, but today, my brain was in hyper-aware mode towards Matt, and decided to think something along the lines of this:

"OMFGIT'SMATTWHATIFIDOSOMETHINGSTUPI DOMGMATTOMGIBROKEHISMOTORBIK EHE'SGONNAHATEMEIDON'TWANTHIMTOHATEMEILOVEMYMATTI KINSAARGHTHAT'SREALLYEMBARRASSINGNOOOOOOOO !"

And then I jumped into the lake.

Yes, Wammy's has a lake. And for the record, the reason I jumped into it was because I knew Matt was going to kill me about the motorbike thing. Not because I felt awkward around him.

But maybe that wasn't my smartest of escape routes.

Operation 'Subtle Avoidance' has officially gone down the drain.

"Mello!" I heard Matt cry, and race towards me.

Not good. That wasn't what I was shooting for at all. I coughed and spouted what felt like several litres of water as I resurfaced and tried to run away... through the lake. "U-um, don't worry about me, Matty, just felt like a swim!" I called back, churning the water as I doggy-paddled away. I could feel my hair sticking to my head, and my clothes were collecting the water like damn sponges- oh, _fuck_, my _hair_!

At the revalation that my beautiful hair was looking less than beautiful, I shrieked and clapped both hands to my head, promptly losing control of my doggy-paddle and faceplanting the water. I could feel water weed and all sorts of other disgusting things clinging to my hair. I scrabbled wildly, wailing, without realising I was underwater and, um... pretty much choking now.

Yeah.

But _ohmylord,_ _my hair_...!

I think I must have blacked out, because I woke up a while later, my head propped up by a warm lap.

"Wh-where am I...?" I croaked, flailing with my hands and feeling nothing. "Am I... am I dead?"

"Uh, no, Mels," replied a voice. I was feeling so groggy that I didn't recognise who it was.

"A-am I dying?"

The words had barely escaped me when a brilliant idea struck. If I was dying, maybe I could use this to an amazing post-mortem advantage...

"N-" began the voice, but I interrupted.

"I _am_ dying!" I wheezed dramatically. "Quick, before I'm lost to the grave... Heed my one last dying wish!"

"Mels-"

"If I don't make it..."

"Mello, you're-"

"...tell L that I was number one!"

"_Mels_!"

I opened my eyes.

Matt's face was hovering above me, goggled and disapproving. And wet, for some reason.

"Mels," he said patiently, "you're not dead and you're not dying. You fainted in the middle of the lake and I pulled you out."

I stared, not really awake yet.

He was pretty with lakewater dripping from his hair.

"Oh," I said simply.

Then I passed out again.

* * *

_I've been to Winchester (I know, right? I looked for orphanages and everything), so those Winchester descriptions are totally accurate :D_


	10. Method 10: Dress up like L

_I've started college! So I'm sorry for the slow update... But you know what happened? I happen to be sitting next to an awesome person in my English class who writes fanfiction too. We were both incredibly excited XD And I've got another class where I'm sitting next to a rabid fan of DW and Sherlock. And this is why college is great. I get all the luck :D_

_I don't own, so eat a scone. If there's a scone handy, that is..._

_You people are so lovely! Thank you, thank you, thank you to Exploading albino potato, FallenHero93, ChieLuvsBleach, Definition-of-a-Nerd, Imaginefun, trumpee, RedRose252 AKA Mello the 2nd (Heh, sorry for making you stay up, I guess :P Glad you like it though, not gonna lie), SilverWingedRaven, and Arysthae for reviewing!_

* * *

**4 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #10  
Dress up like L**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

Okay. I am practically hyperventilating right now. The funny breathing thing, and everything. Seriously. I'm really freaking out.

I've just realised that L will be arriving at this orphanage in exactly four days from now, and I'm still number two. Not good, people. Not. Good.

This kid called K has already knocked on my door three times to ask if I'm okay (I wonder if the pun was intended. Maybe O's going to join him soon). I'm guessing that he's the one watching me on my tiny camera, but it feels more like I've got a butler, to be honest. Doesn't matter, though, 'cause I've told him to fuck off every time, and thrown something.

I don't think he'll be coming back again, 'cause last time I threw Matt's pet rock, Snuffy.

Anyway. Panic stations, everyone.

I've only got four more tries to make sure I become number one, and since circumstance and the idiots around me have stuffed up the previous nine tries, I've got to make sure that these last four are supremely _excellent_ and have a zero percent likelihood of failing.

...Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. It just hit me again. L's coming. _L is coming_. _Here._

I'm such a crazed fangirl... Uh, fanboy. Not even kidding. Like, if he were allowed to show his face, I'd be the awkward teenager who has a giant blown-up poster of him above my bed. And people would probably find me regularly making out with said poster. Yup. I said it.

As it is, I already have a picture of Near on the wall next to my bed. But that's only so I can throw darts at it when I'm angry. Which is a lot of the time. Actually, the picture's looking a tad dog-eared... I should probably get a new one... Hmm.

I know for a fact that the gnat idolises L, too. Not as rabidly as I do, of course, but intensely all the same. He wouldn't try so hard to keep his spot as his number one successor, otherwise. That's more than I can say about _some_ people. Naming no names - ahem, _Matt_.

Hang on.

Near values L's opinion above everything. The kiddy crush he's got on him borders on creepy, actually. If L told the gnat to do something, he would unquestionably do it...

I've got an idea.

One pair of jeans, a white shirt, a black wig and a smear of eyeshadow later, I knocked on the gnat's bedroom door. I'm a pretty good actor (hey, what am I _not_ awesome at?) so I reckon I could pull off being L. The gnat isn't exactly a moron, I am pained to admit, but even he won't see past such an incredible act.

The door opened slowly, and the gnat's revolting sheep head peered out.

"Good afternoon, gna- Near," I began, but I was interrupted almost at once.

"Sorry, no trick-or-treaters."

The door slammed.

I stared.

It's not even _Halloween_.

**Method #2**

Right, well, I'm trying again. I think I know where I went wrong last time. I was wearing shoes - which, as we all should know, is something that L never does.

Well, he hasn't done it in the three times I've met him before, anyway.

So, barefoot now, I returned to the gnat's bedroom door. I knocked, and waited for it to open.

"Good afternoo-" I tried again, but once more, the gnat cut over me.

"Again?" He sounded quite impatient, which was a shock, because he never shows emotion. "Fine. Kindly wait here."

He shuffled away, closing the door in my face. I was baffled. What was he doing now?

After a few moments, the door reopened and the gnat shoved a bar of chocolate in my face. "There. Happy holidays. Now, please leave me alone."

Silently, I accepted the chocolate and said nothing as the door shut on me again.

...For _fuck's sake_...

At least I got chocolate.

**Method #3**

Well, I haven't got any closer to beating him, but I have discovered, upon mulling it over with the chocolate bar, that the gnat must actually have at least a fraction of a soul. Because he keeps chocolate in his room, and he told me that he didn't like chocolate... What a liar.

Nobody can fool the Mello-meister.

Anyway, since knocking on his bedroom door is seeming to leave me with no conclusion but the wish of a pleasant Halloween, I decided to leap into action during class.

I'm a good boy, so I have no desire to skip lessons. I dressed up, clipped the annoying minicamera to the back of Linda's shirt while she wasn't looking, and waylaid one of the classes that the gnat has without me. It happened to be chemistry, so, without further ado, I slouched into my best 'L' pose and shuffled into the lab.

The teacher looked around when she saw me. "Um, excuse me, but would you please-?"

But I'm L now, and L stops for no man. I raised my finger and pointed at the gnat. "You," I said in a monotone, "have failed life."

The gnat blinked.

"You," I continued, "are an imbecile. A twit. A moron. There are many other such names for what you are, but as far as I know, L doesn't curse, so we won't go into them. You have failed life, and as such, are banished from the good house of Wammy's for the rest of your days. And my successor is now Mello. Have a nice afternoon."

I turned around to shuffle the hell back out again before anyone could clock my brilliant disguise, but I hadn't got further than two shufflesteps before I was grabbed by the back of my shirt.

"Not so fast, Mello," the teacher said sternly, just as I sensed that I should probably get-out-like-NOW and started struggling. "You can't just go around interrupting lessons whenever you like, you know. School isn't just a place for you to go crazy and show off."

I would have liked to have disagreed thoroughly with that statement (school _is_ just a place for me to go crazy and show off; what was she thinking?) but as it was I was currently occupied trying to escape. Obviously I've underestimated the intelligence of the teachers here. How the hell did she see through my disguise so quickly?

Later, as she was frogmarching me to Roger's office after she made me sit in the corner for the whole lesson (the gnat gave me evils throughout) I asked her if she'd ever thought about applying to be a student at Wammy's, but I think she took that the wrong way, because she gripped my wrists tighter and sped up.

Damn.

Well, if I can't fool the teachers, I'll just have to try appealing to the more idiotic nature of my good friend, Roger.

I'm joking. Roger has no friends.

But anyway, when the teacher directed me into Roger's office, I fell back into my slouch.

"Good afternoon, Roger," I said flatly, trying to hide my eyes (mine are brown and L's are black) behind the itchy black wig. "I am L."

Roger, whose head was bent writing on some sheets of paper, jumped violently and spilled a pot of pens all over the desk. "Goodness!" he spluttered, looking up and trying to shuffle his papers together, looking very harried all of a sudden. "L-L, we weren't expecting you for another-!" Then he looked up again, broke off, and frowned. "Wait a moment."

Oh, shit. "Is there a problem?" I asked in as dull a tone I could manage, although my palms were sweating.

Roger got up and walked up to me, frowning in my face. After a couple of moments, during which I stared him out nervously, he sighed and turned away.

"Good grief, Mello. Really?"

This isn't good. I've been clocked. Time to make my exit, I think- except Roger just walked over and locked the door! Fucking hell!

...Okay. Okay. I've got to play it cool. "Who's Mello?" I asked stupidly. "No- wait, hang on, I know who he is, obviously. He's my successor. My... number one successor." I had caught sight of an open window now, and, ex-ter-_eem_-ly casually, I sidled closer to it.

"Oh, really?" Roger raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." I slid an inch nearer to the window. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Mello..." ...shuffle... "...needs..." ...shuffle... "...to become..." ...shuffle... "...my-number-one-successor-okay-awesome-byeee!"

With that, I made an epic leap and scrambled out of the window. Without breaking any bones or puncturing any vital organs, which was impressive to say the least. Roger shouted something after me, but I was so busy escaping that I only heard, "...absolute death of me, Mello!"

Left my wig behind, though, so I don't think that plan went very well.

**Method #4**

"Matthew."

"Mello, why are you wearing L's clothes...? I know you're a fan, but seriously. And, by the way, even my alias isn't Matthew."

"Matthew. I am not Mello."

"You what?"

"I am L."

"...Oh, for fuck's sake."

Since the episode in Roger's office, I'd managed to locate another wig (although this one was slightly shorter... but would it be so strange if L decided to have a haircut, really?) and now I was sitting in our room in L's trademark crouch. I'd been waiting for Matt to get back from lessons. After half an hour, though, the whole crouching thing really starts to kill.

See, if there's one thing that can be said for Matt, it's that he's a pretty goddamn awesome accomplice. So I thought that if I could convince him that I was L, I'd be able to get him to do... uh, something accomplice-y. And help me henceforth beat Near.

"What do you mean, Matthew? I am L."

"Okay," Matt said, slumping down in his favourite gaming chair with enough force to expel little puffs of dust from the cushions, and folded his arms. "You're L. Whatever."

Fucking yes! For a moment, I couldn't believe that he actually bought it, but then I dismissed it and congratulated myself on my incredible skills of disguise.

Thing is, he didn't seem very excited about the fact that L had just randomly landed in his bedroom. If it had been me, I'd have been shrieking and offering him tea and biscuits. So I emphasised, "_L_."

Matt pointed at himself. "_Matt_," he told me slowly.

"I know who you are, Matt."

"Yeah, I'd be pretty concerned if you didn't. 'L'."

"Aren't you going to be surprised that I am currently residing in your bedroom, Matt?"

Matt shrugged and turned on the Xbox with his big toe. "Nah." Then he smirked. "Bu-ut... I know this one kid called Mello who'd be super-freaking out if _he were here_ right now."

All thoughts of beating the gnat suddenly flew from my head.

Wait. That was me Matt was talking about.

While I'm L, Matt's free to talk about me as if I'm not here. And, while I'm generally a chilled person (that's a lie), I'm pretty damn desperate to know what Matt thinks of me. In a non-creepy, non-fangirly, non-stalkery way.

"Mello, you say?" I said, hoping I sounded L-casual. "Tell me more about this so-called... 'Mello'."

For some reason, Matt's smirk became even more pronounced, though his attention had now turned to the screen. "You wanna know about Mello, huh?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because... uh..." I groped around frantically for a reason. "He sounds like an insanely awesome individual." Oops, I don't think L frequently says 'insanely awesome'. Not that it matters, because Matt's so totally bought on the idea that I'm him.

"Yeah?" said Matt offhandly. "Okay, then. I'll tell you about Mello if you want."

"You will?"

"Yeah, why not? Not like you're gonna be going and telling him what I say, _right_?" Matt grinned broadly.

"Well, of course not, Matthew."

"Okay, cool. Well, Mello... what can I say about Mello?"

I was leaning so far forward now that I was in serious danger of overbalancing, especially given my precarious sitting arrangements.

"First off, he's a total prick."

I fell over.

"Wh-what?" I tried to right myself before Matt noticed. Luckily he was totally immersed in Assassin's Creed, and seeing as Ezio was getting more attention than The Great and Powerful L, I struggled back up without any strange looks.

"Yeah, he's an arsehole," nodded Matt sagely, gazing intently at his game and sniggering for some reason. "Totally self-centred. Never thinks about anyone but himself. He treats chocolate like it's weed, and he's totally mental. Out of his fucking mind."

My head was spinning. Was this really what Matt thought about me? Like, really? Really and truly? I couldn't decide whether I wanted to beat him up later or cry.

But then he said, without changing his tone or position in this slightest, "I love the dickhead, though."

I stared at him, speechless.

"Yeah, I know, right? Sometimes I think it's completely irrational. But he has this really sweet side that he doesn't want to show anyone because he wants the world to think he's a total badass. Which he is. But at the same time he's really not, because he's a total girl. He's... uh, he's a fabulous badass. God, that sounded really gay. Anyway. Like, yesterday, he wrecked my motorbike, but he paid for it to be fixed again without even telling me, which I thought was adorable. He's insane, mental, absolutely bonkers, and I love him."

It was the flippant way that he said it while assassinating a village full of innocent civilians that got me. As if he thought I already knew it. As if he thought I _should_ have known it. All I can say is, thank the good Lord above us for my talent on the stage, because if I wasn't currently L, I think I might have genuinely kissed him.

...Okay. Right. Breathe.

I've officially decided that I'm not above admitting when I'm in love. And, in the most badass way possible, I think I am. In love, that is.

Oh, my God.

"If I could put him on the alignments scale," Matt went on thoughtfully, oblivious to this weird inner revalation, "he'd be the chaotic good to my chaotic neutral." Then he laughed.

Jeez, he's such a nerd. He's lucky I know Dungeons and Dragons to a moderate extent.

I fumbled for a moment, wondering whether or not I should just break disguise. I mean, if he knew that I'd heard what he'd said, would he be mad? Or happy? Or...

But then he said, without taking his eyes off the Xbox, "Uh, Mello, you do know that I've known it was you since I came into the room, right...?"

I absolutely did not sulk in the corner for the remainder of the day.


	11. Method 11: Stop him sleeping

_Ooh, my lord. It's been over a month since this got updated. And I feel like this chapter is a little shorter than usual. I'm so sorry... But on a happier note, thank you to ChieLovesBleach (of course! Mello is nothing else BUT a ~fabulous badass :P), Death-Note-Fan01, Carottal, Trivia, TragicAtBest13, Imaginefun, Little-Blue-Tiger, SilverWingedRaven, EAP, Teenage-Vampire-Girl, and Kiku-Goldenflower for reviewing :D You guys made my day. _

_No, I don't own Death Note._

_L's getting close to arriving now, huh...?_

_Oh yeah, and I hate to self-promote, but I'm running for IfYou'reReadingThisYouCanRead's Fan of the Month :D So y'all should go to ifyourereadingthisyoucanread . blogspot. com (no spaces) and vote for me! Or, if you think her answer was better, you should vote for SilverWingedRaven, the other fanfic-er running for it! Yeah!_

* * *

**3 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #11  
Stop him from sleeping**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

It's been a whole day, and I haven't done anything to the gnat.

I ignored him at breakfast. I didn't speak to him during double sociology. I didn't even see him at break, at English, or at lunch. I acted perfectly normally all through history, answering questions and not disputing him on the answers to his. I did some homework after lessons finished. I even managed to get through dinner without dyeing his hair red using the pasta sauce. We parted ways and went to our seperate rooms afterwards. It's ten o' clock now, and the lights have just gone out.

All that nice stuff changes now, bitches.

Today's strategy was to lower his defences. You should've seen the looks the gnat kept giving me today, as though he thought I was about to leap onto a desk and announce my terrible plot on how to take over the world. As if I'd ever be that obvious.

Now, onto the plan.

Torch. Teddy that speaks when you squeeze its paw. Crowbar. Jar of ants. Okay. I think I'm good. I've got all that I need.

I suppose, if anyone's reading this, assuming that they're on the less _Wammy's_ end of the intelligence scale, they'll be wondering why the holy hell I've got all this stuff.

Here's a nice little challenge for you: think about it.

...Sometimes, it's super-annoying when everyone else is about ten times more of a moron than you.

It's especially annoying considering that you, reader, are not even here, and if I have my way, will never be. I am writing these words to literally nobody, patronising nobody, and berating the intelligence levels of _nobody_.

God, I'm bored.

Anyway, off to Near's room. Yes, that's where I'm going. I'm going to keep him awake. Remember the other day, when I saw the bags under his eyes? Well, they gave me an idea.

It's been scientifically proven that sleep deprivation slows your brain functions. When you're tired, you're more stupid. Fact. Unless you're L, in which case you just don't sleep until you actually pass out, or whatever. But the gnat is _not_ L. Not L. Not L _at all_. However 'number one' he might be, the gnat is not, and never will be, the world's greatest detective. So if he doesn't sleep for too long, he _will_ become stupid. He's only human, after all.

I think.

Anyway.

First attempt at keeping the gnat awake. I crept across to Near's room and slowly, carefully, _ever_ so precisely opened the door. Because Wammy's is about a million years old and the door felt like being _particuarly_ unhelpful, it made a really loud creak.

"Mello, what are you doing in my room?"

"I'm not in your room, gnat, that's disgusting," I snapped back into the darkness. Because I wasn't. I was just really near the border between the hallway and his bedroom.

The gnat went silent, apparently thinking. Ew. "Mello. Why are you here?"

I dug my nails into the burgling sack that I slung over my shoulder to keep all of my... uh, items in. "How'd you know it was me?"

With a little frustrated sigh, Near answered, "When is it ever anyone else?"

For once in his pathetic blip of a life, the gnat's actually got a point.

Well, I wasn't counting on him actually hearing me come in. Still, my objective is to keep him awake, so as long as he's not asleep, all is well. "Tell me a bedtime story."

...Wait,_ what_ did I just say?

"A bedtime story." He's not asking a question, just making a statement. And a dry one at that. Dry, sarcastic, fucking annoying.

Oh, well. I'll go with it. "Are you deaf or something?" I asked roughly. "Yes, a bedtime story. Problem?"

"You actually believe that I have the emotional or imaginative capacity to tell you a bedtime story?"

"You actually believe that I _want_ a bedtime story?"

"No, I believe that you have an ulterior motive."

"Well, good, 'cause I do."

"I know."

"You going to tell me a bedtime story or what?"

"Of course not."

"You're a bitch."

"As I've frequently been told."

"Fuck you!"

"No, thank you. Save that for your roommate."

I slammed the door.

**Attempt #2**

I left the gnat in a huff, got Matt ("MATT! NEAR'S HAVING AN EMOTION!" "You _what_?!" "I'm lying, but get up anyway!") and returned.

"I'm tired, Mello," Matt told me in a whiny whisper. I told him to shut up.

"You're never asleep this early anyway," I hissed.

"It's gone half twelve!"

"And you call yourself a gamer. Man up."

We got to the gnat's room to find that he'd locked the door.

"Well, that's just too bad," shrugged Matt, sounding suspiciously insincere as he turned around and made to walk away. I grabbed him by his collar and he made a funny choking noise.

"Not so fast," I said. I smirked.

Matt looked concerned.

Five minutes later, we were outside. In the dark. And the cold. I was scrambling up the same tree I had paintballed the gnat's window from over a week ago now, getting Matt to give me a leg-up and not quite wanting to admit that I had really wanted to use this crowbar. Getting out of the orphanage was surprisingly simple. This place has disturbingly little security.

Matt refused point-blank to scale the tree with me after the scared-of-heights incident last time, so he was frowning on the ground now, hugging himself against the cold.

"Why don't you go back inside?" I hissed down to him. Matt looked delighted for a moment, before I went on, "You can wait outside the gnat's door for me to come out!"

Theatrical, that boy is. Such a drama queen. Though it's not like I've got room to talk. "_Fi-ine_," he sighed long-sufferingly, flouncing around and heading back towards the house. I'm shocked that I didn't see the homosexual earlier. "You're lucky I love you."

Actually, I'm lucky it's dark. I'm way too pale, I swear.

Anywho...

It took quite a bit of effort for me to prise open the window using the crowbar, and when I finally did, there was a resounding _snap_ and the window-frame split clean in two. I leapt backwards into the leaves, worried that the gnat had heard me, and peered out after a few moments.

I gulped. The window was open all right, but it was hanging precariously from just one hinge.

There was a scuffling from inside, and I thought I heard the gnat mutter something like, "What?" I held my breath and pressed myself into the tree again. There was a thick curtain shielding the night air from pervading the room, but any moment the gnat was going to open them...

Suddenly, there was a heavy crash from inside. I almost jumped out of my skin. Then I heard a voice: "Hey, Near, get out here, quick!"

People say that their hearts swell to twice their size when the person they love does something for them. Well, mine didn't do anything so sentimental or pretty, but my throat did seal up a little at that moment. I love Matt. He knows me so well.

There were the sounds of shuffling and an opening door. "What is it, Matt?"

"Um... uh... the ceiling just exploded!"

Quickly, quietly, I reached into my bag. My fingers closed on the teddy, and, pressing it's paw, I threw it as hard as I could into the gnat's room. The high-pitched, tinny sound of the My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic theme song started to play out. The best bit is that I'd tampered with the internal thingy in the teddy so it won't stop playing until it's literally destroyed. Ah, the joys of electronic manipulation.

"_My Little Pony, My Little Pony... Ah-ah-ah-ah..._"

That definitely caught the gnat's attention, though, and even Matt's not gonna be able to do anything about that. Good, because the idea is to keep him up.

Time for me to get out of here. I grabbed my bag.

Mello out!

**Method #3**

"Matt, you are frankly beautiful," I told him bluntly.

"_My Little Pony... I used to wonder what friendship could be...!_"

"Yeah, I know," he replied. I'd found him crouching behind a potted plant a little way across the landing. The singing teddy has already been thrown out of the gnat's room three times and I've chucked it back in every time. Near's starting to get annoyed - I can tell, I heard him sigh a little bit. "Can I go to bed now?"

"Don't be silly." I was outraged. "It's barely one o'clock. The night is young, Matty!"

"_My Little Pony... Until you all shared its magic with me...!_"

"The Matt is tired," Matt grumbled. He sighed. "Fine. What crazy are we pulling off now?"

"Keeping the gnat awake, duh," I whispered, crouching to join him in what I considered his vigil in front of the gnat's bedroom door. A few moments passed, in which the teddy was once again expelled from the room. I rose up and gave it a hard kick back in. The singing jarred a little but didn't cease. There was a long huff of frustration from the gnat.

"Will you kindly leave me alone, just for one night, Mello?"

"_Big adventures, tons of fun! A beautiful heart, faithful and strong!_"

I froze. He'd heard us! "Uh..." I made my voice go high-pitched. "Th-this isn't Mello! This is..." I cast about wildly. "Um, this is... Mellinda!"

There was an awkward silence, filled only with pony voices. ("_Sharing kindness, it's an easy feat! And magic makes it all complete!_") Then a couple of moments passed, and the awkward silence continued. I nudged Matt, who jumped.

"Oh- oh, yeah, and I'm... Matilda!" he nodded quickly, trying to make his voice squeaky and ending up sounding like he had in those hilarious few months when his voice was breaking.

I waited with bated breath. There was the sound of creaking bedsprings from inside the room. Was he buying it?

"_You have my little ponies... Do you know you're all my very best friends...?_"

Then there was a loud thud and an ominous _crunch_, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic died.

A second later, the fluffy and massacred remains of My Little Pony-bear joined us in the corner.

"Oh," I said, disappointed.

Matilda cracked up into silent giggles, for a reason I really can't fathom. Although his laugh is very girly, so maybe it would have made us more convincing.

"Okay," he said, when he'd calmed down. "Can we go back to bed now? Near's not going to be able to sleep without a window, it'll be freezing."

I was shocked. Not to mention immature, and he'd just said '_Can we go back to bed..._' Silence, you filthy gutter of a mind. "What are you talking about, Matty- uh, Matilda? We can't give up now!"

Matilda's face was dubious now. "Mello..."

"Mellinda!" I reminded him in a hiss. "Now, come on! We can't discuss it here... to many witnesses!" With a furtive look around, I grabbed his arm, and Matilda and Mellinda fled before Near could open his bedroom door and politely tell us to fuck off.

**Method #4**

We were back at the tree again, to Matilda's evident dismay.

"I hate this tree," he grumbled. "It's always the tree."

"Shut up!" I told him, straddling the branch in front of the hole in the gnat's wall that used to be a window and reaching into my bag. Aha. There it is. Perfect.

Surprising how many ants you can find in the garden when you look hard enough.

I slipped down from the tree and grinned as I heard a stifled cry of surprise from the gnat's room. Seriously, this is the most emotional I've ever heard Near be, ever, in this one night. I'm so proud that I've managed to inflict that much pain on him.

Matilda was standing at the bottom of the tree looking bored. I smiled happily.

"You done?" he asked.

"Yes." I nodded, very much satisfied. "Now, Matilda... _now _we can go to sleep."


	12. Method 12: Drive him insane

_Thanks to ChieLovesBleach, EAP, imaginefun,XxAmi. IzunexX, SweetSourTart, SilverWingedRaven, XMistressChaosx, ArrancarRayflo, DeathandMayhem, and ooomf for reviewing! You guys are incredible - we've hit one hundred reviews! Eek, that makes me so, so happy! Thank you to everyone! :D_

_And I still don't own Death Note, by the way, in case you were interested._

* * *

**2 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #12  
Drive him insane**

* * *

**Attempt #1**

"Hey, gnat. Hey, gnat. Hey, gnat. Hey, gnat."

"Mello, kindly leave me alone."

"Am I annoying you yet? Am I annoying you yet? Am I annoying you yet?"

"You are annoying everybody currently within range to hear your voice. As I am presently within hearing range of your vocal chords, it is safe to assume that you are indeed annoying me."

"Awesome!"

Afternoon, loyal readers. You have joined me in the latter part of today's quest, but in fairness, that is only because I've spent the better part of the day asleep. Those exploits yesterday were seriously exhausting. Matt slept for even longer than I did. Lazy bugger.

Near looks pretty worse for wear too, I'm pleased to report. He's covered head-to-toe (as far as I can tell - I'm not going to subject myself to a full-body analysis, thanks) in angry red bites (gotta love ants) and the bags under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. He's trying to write some essay, and his pen's really crawling across the page - although that might just be because I'm irritating him like hell.

I nudged him. "Hey gnat... I know a song that'll get on your nerves."

Oh, yeah, that's today's way of beating the gnat. Drive him absolutely up the fucking wall.

I'll have to admit, the logic on this one does seem to be a little bit flawed. I mean, how is this going to make me smarter than the gnat? Even I will say, reader, that I don't know. But come on, cut me a bit of slack - L's coming in two days. I'm getting frantic.

Two days.

_Breathe_, Mello.

Matt's being a bitch and won't help me today. ("Halo 4's out, Mels. You're gonna want to leave me alone for about nine, ten hours." "What? But _Ma-_" "HALO FUCKING 4, MELLO.") So I guess that while our room's full of the sound of death and gunfire, Mello will be flying solo in his own video game of pain.

Heh, that sounded cool.

Anyway, like I need Matt's help. Not like I actually enjoy the kid's company. I have better things to do than watch him shoot gurgling monsters that look suspiciously like Roger before he's had his morning cup of coffee.

Yeah, I have so many better things to do. Like this.

"I know a song that'll get on your nerves, I know a song that'll get on your nerves, I know a song that'll get on your nerves, and it goes like this: I know a song that'll get on your nerves, I know a song that'll get on your nerves..."

A vein pulsed in the gnat's temple. He muttered something under his breath, and, as he abruptly stood up and snapped his books shut, I felt a surge of triumph. Any time which he wasn't filling with an excessive amount of study was a plus in my eyes.

He started to shuffle toward the exit, and I moved to follow him (I'm going through the self-inflicted torture of not letting him out of my sight today, purely for the purpose of extra irritation. Hey, anything for L), but then he said, expression not moving in the slightest, "Librarian's behind you."

My dulcet tones have now earned me a two week ban from the library.

What a bitch.

**Attempt #2**

I was giving myself a break from gnat-irritation/had been confined in the Quiet Room for an hour following an incident involving custard and rice pudding when Near wobbled through the door. (Well, actually, in fairness, he didn't really _wobble_, in the traditional sense of the word. But there's no interesting word to replace 'shuffle', and although that's all he fucking does, I feel like I've been overusing it.) I soon found a fat copy of Advanced Level Trigonometry in my lap and sat up sharply.

"What?" I asked (a tad aggressively, but hey, who's caring). The gnat merely nodded at it, utterly deadpan. I was almost wary that he had booby-trapped it to punch me in the face or something, but after an intense thirty second stare-off, which I won, nothing continued to happen, so I opened it.

The words 'DUMBLEDORE DIES' were scrawled in thick black felt-tip on the inside cover. The handwriting was mine.

"Why?" asked the gnat. Although his voice didn't rise to indicate the question, so it might as well have been a statement.

I stared at the book for a few moments. I remembered writing these words, and I remember writing them specifically to piss off the gnat, but... "I swear this was Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince," I said honestly, looking up.

Why does no one ever believe me when I'm telling the truth? Near just snatched up the graffitied book and stalked out - huffily, as far as I could tell.

Still, at least he's annoyed. Might put him off working.

I was let out of the Quiet Room not long afterwards. You learn to shut up and be good if you want to be let out of that place early. Kind of like prison, really.

...Not that I'd have any first-hand experience with that.

Ahem.

Anyway, once freed from the cold shackles of captivity, I set about trying to make the gnat's life a misery once again. Ah, what a life I lead.

I popped back to our room to see if Matt had any ideas, perchance. ("Huh? Oh, sorry, Mels, I- SHIT, OUT OF AMMO! SHOOT, SHOOT, FUCKING SHOOT, YOU SON-OF-A-" "...So that's a no, then?") Not that I'm going into withdrawal of the Mattless variety, of course.

Good grief, I'm a sad excuse for a human being. When I'm not dazzing everyone with my awesome, that is.

Clearly, Matt wasn't going to be any help whatsoever. Oh well. No matter - I've had enough experience in the ways of the gnat to be able to deal with him on my own. And I know what really gets on his nerves.

Time to have some fun.

Arguably the best part about annoying the gnat is carrying out plans with such delicacy that Roger doesn't notice... Not hard, though, really. Considering his IQ and everything. (It's 116. I cry with the stupidity.)

Over the next couple of hours, I:

1. Stood behind the gnat and peered over his shoulder as he studied, mumbling incoherent jargon the whole time.

2. Tied a bell around the gnat's neck in a knot I ensured was impossible to pick apart. Then I confiscated every pair of scissors in the house, gave them to Q (who is six and a total pain in the arse when it comes to hoarding things), and watched Near ransack the house in an attempt to find something sharp enough to cut the string.

3. Broke into his room, stole all of the neatly copied out algorithms for the fifteen-by-fifteen Rubix cube that he's trying to learn, and replaced them with patterns that looked similar but were total nonsense.

4. Found the can of insect repellent from last week and proceeded to spray both the gnat and everything he touched with it. I had quite a bit of fun with this one, especially when the teacher left our classroom for a couple of moments and I took the opportunity to jump on the desk and shout, "EXTERMINATION STATIONS!" I was sent out rather quickly.

5. Chained myself to the gnat's bed and declared myself 'on a stakeout, in case of earthquakes'. Then I demanded to be brought chocolate. It hasn't worked yet.

6. Hacked into the gnat's laptop (don't think I haven't learned a thing or two from Matty) and changed all of the passwords to 'p0n13s-and-ra1nb0ws-303' after deleting three files at random that looked fairly important.

"Mello." The gnat gritted his teeth as he opened his bedroom door to find his bedclothes dyed a violent shade of orange. I amaze myself sometimes. "Why are you doing this?"

I emerged from the pot plant I had been hiding behind, doing a brilliant impression of not grinning from ear to ear. "Doing what?" I asked, relishing the innocence in my own voice. Near looked a mess, all dark eyes and hollow cheeks and clenched fists. All my doing. I'm so proud.

"Don't make me your enemy," he warned quietly.

I laughed. "Are you serious? Fuck, we were enemies from the moment we set foot in Wammy's, gnat," I said. "And, uh, if you haven't noticed it in the past however many years, _I hate you._"

Near looked down. "I had taken note of that small fact, thank you, Mello," he murmured. Then he looked at me and his eyes suddenly flashed. "But never forget I know something about you. Something that could be a potent weapon if wielded... correctly..."

I stopped. Something had changed. I wanted to laugh at him again but something wouldn't let me. Those eyes... there was something dangerous in there that I hadn't seen before - something that I'd never seen before in the gnat. Real anger.

Before I could compose myself, he'd gone. I wanted to yell after him, but I couldn't.

Shit, man. I'm kind of scared about what he's going to do. And this is the _gnat _we're talking about.

What the _fuck_ just happened?

**Attempt #3**

Or, at least, it would have been an attempt, had I actually seen the gnat again. I think it was at mealtime that I started to get concerned, because neither he nor Matt was there.

Now, I could have understood just Matt, what with that damn game of his (although it's been ten hours; I'm surprised he hasn't completed it yet). But Near? Jeez, that kid never misses a meal. Not that you'd think it - though it's more of his being a goody-two-shoes than any actual desire to eat. But, apparently, not today.

Oh dear.

I excused myself early and dashed back to our room, half afraid that I was going to find Near there telling Matt that I was in love with him or something. My palms went sweaty at the very thought.

"...So, to reiterate, Mello is in love with you."

I yelped and slammed the door open with more force than was necessary.

Okay, so Near was in my room telling Matt I was in love with him.

Stay cool, Mello.

"Gnat!" I screeched. Matt's eyes were still glued to Halo 4, but Near looked up.

"Oh. Greetings, Mello. I was just telling Matt-"

"You fucking dare and I'll rip your throat out and use it as emergency fuel for Matt's motorbike," I threatened, grabbing him around his skinny little shoulders. The gnat looked indifferent.

"I told you not to make me into an enemy."

I growled, wishing it was legal to beat people to death with a small lamp and a cushion.

Just then, there was a small noise from Matt's side of the room and my eyes darted over. For the first time, Matt's attention had left the screen and as he stared at the two of us in confusion, he removed the geeky headphones from his ears. I could hear the blare of gunfire from here.

"Mello..." he said slowly. "Near... what's going on?"

Clearly, he hadn't heard a word of what Near had said to him before I got here. Thank goodness.

"Mello's in love with you," Near informed him quickly.

Okay, fuck that.

With a monstrous yell (I'm quite proud of that one actually - it was truly atrocious), I threw the gnat from the room by the scruff of his neck and shut the door, hard. "And _stay out_!"

Matt's eyebrows were raised when I turned back around. He'd put down the Xbox controller. Oh, shit. This just got serious.

"You wanna explain?" he said.

Oh, man, how can he be so _cool_? Is there any chance he didn't hear, again? No, that's stupid. Focus, Mello, focus!

I took a deep breath, and promptly felt like the main character of some cheesy romance film. "Right... So... You're Matt," I said.

Matt looked at me like I'd grown another head or something. "Yeah, well noticed, genius."

"And I'm... Mello."

Great, now he thinks I'm a complete idiot. He stared. "I'm glad you've learned something in the seven-odd years of deduction classes you've been taking."

"Shut the fuck up," I snapped. Then, for some incomprehensible reason, the next thing I blurted was, "because unless my _deduction_ skills are very much mistaken, I _am_ Mello and I _do_ love Matt. A lot."

And then I realised it was out.

Nice one, Mello.

The dumbfounded look on Matt's face spoke for itself, really. And he went bright red. The change from pale was startling.

Okay, so maybe he _had_ missed what Near had said. Doubly nice one, Mello.

"In..." He swallowed. "In the straightest way possible?" By this point, he was virtually whispering. Oh, man, I love that.

But obviously, now it was out, the game was up, and we both knew it. I rubbed my neck. "No, Matty," I said ruefully. "In a _gay_ way."

"Ah."

And then there was silence. And silence. And silence.

Now, clearly, there were one of two responses he should have made at his point. Both 'I love you too' and 'Get the fuck away from me' would have been perfectly reasonable in the circumstances. But Matt, 'cause he hasn't seen enough sunlight in his life and never learned the rules of social etiquette, said... nothing.

And so I'm blaming him for what I did next, because it was, er... rather stupid.

Being Mello, which means that I just _have_ to exaggerate every message that I send, I kissed him.

Once again, nice one, Mello.

And after that... well.

"Too much?" I asked anxiously, as soon as I realised that this was a Very Bad Idea and pulled away. Because now he looked like a mute, quivering tomato, poor kid.

But then, to my great surprise, the 'poor kid' suddenly came to life and pushed up his goggles. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. "Not fucking enough, actually," he replied quietly. And then _he_ was kissing _me_ and- _whoa_, Matty, where did _that_ sudden confidence spring from?

Remember what I said about the sexy Mello charms? Precisely.

"You know... an 'I love you too' would have sufficed," I informed him.

"Really?"

"No."

"Exactly."

I grinned a little and looked at the floor like some stupid schoolgirl, but I couldn't help it. "So..."

"So..." repeated Matt.

"So... what do I do now? What do we do?"

Matt looked at me seriously. "Well, at the risk of sounding disgustingly romantic..."

"What?"

He blushed. "Five words, eight letters."

God, he's so cute when he's red. So cute that my brain decided it was going to just warp into insanity. I screwed up my face. "...I'm a spoon?" I tried.

He stared.

Then he laughed. "I love you, you dick."

Okay, reader. Now, you may be wondering why I felt the need to include this delightful little scene in my log of gnat-beating methods.

You see, the gnat thought that by telling Matt I loved him, he would be hurting me, or that it would some way be revenge against everything I've done to him - today, and over the past twelve days.

In fact, the gnat has inadvertently been the catalyst in what I am quite close to terming the greatest thing to ever happen to me, aside from discovering the existence of chocolate and leather.

I call that a complete and utter win.


	13. Method 13: Beat him

_Thank you to Sonar, ChieLuvsBleach, TragicAtBest13, Definition-Of-A-Nerd, Bladefire Alchemist, Exploading albino potato, Imaginefun (yeah, I totally forgot that this was all supposed to have happened like seven years ago... But, sticking to traditional timelines, I think L should be dead right now anyway, so meh. Let's just say that they're Wammy's kids... they get everything extra early...?), SweetSourTart, and trumpee for taking the time to review! Oh, good lord... It's the last day before L arrives... We should all be scared. Very scared._

_And I hope everyone had a great Christmas! ^_^_

_These characters are all so horrendously OOC that I can't possibly own Death Note :P_

* * *

**1 Day Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near, Method #13  
Beat him**

* * *

I didn't sleep a wink last night.

That sounds like an exaggeration, but it's not. I literally couldn't shut my eyes. I just stared hard at the little red, luminous numbers on the digital clock by my bed. They seemed to be counting down to my doom.

Two twenty-three. Two twenty-four. Two twenty-five. Two twenty-six. I always hated twelve-hour clocks.

Thirty-one hours, thirty-four minutes until L arrived.

And the gnat still stood unbeaten.

At two forty-seven, Matt fell asleep. He always gamed late into the night, with his headphones on past about eleven o'clock for my sake. The TV screen was always bright, but I was fine with that. There wasn't much I wouldn't sleep through.

A lot of the Wammy's kids have nightmares, see. Not me - but you can't really blame the ones who do. We're all here in this orphanage for a reason.

I could tell Matt was asleep once I saw, out of the corner of my eye, his head droop onto his chest, and the Xbox controller fall from his hands. I slipped from under my bedcovers at once and snuck over to him.

The characters waiting for command on the screen meant very little to me, but when I went to put the controller and headphones away in a drawer, I caught sight of the game's case - Final Fantasy XIII. I glanced back over at Matt, his eyebrows still slightly creased in concentration, his chest rising and falling as he slept.

Cute.

It didn't take a lot of strength for me to carry him to his own bed and lay him down. I carefully removed his goggles, almost afraid I would wake him ("Ngh... give me the cheesecake..."), and pulled the covers up around him.

I almost went back to my own bed, but something made me pause. Matt looked so calm. Peaceful. His hair was a little too long, and fell all the wrong ways over the pillow. Messed, from the headphones.

He'd always been pretty. Like a girl. Those eyelashes, I think. I liked that.

Although, in fairness, I have no room to talk about people being pretty like a girl.

I ended up nestling next to him, curled up in a little ball. He didn't wake up, and he was warm, but I still didn't go to sleep. At six o'clock, I crept back to my own bed.

I've got to tell you, readers... I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I'm being beaten.

And I don't like to be afraid.

**Attempt #1**

Okay. Right. Okay. It's ten o'clock. Twenty-four hours until L arrives. It's okay. I can do this.

"Oi, gnat!" I shouted upon seeing him in the corridor, going against all my natural instincts of fleeing. "C'mere!"

He stopped, but didn't turn around. It was ridiculously obvious that he'd heard me. That was his first mistake.

"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!"

It really is a tribute to how used to my crazy antics all the other Wammy's letters are that nobody gave me a second glance. It's good here, really.

Finally, after having calculated in that insect-esque cranium of his that the risk of facing my anger if he didn't do as I said was greater than the risk of something horrible happening to him if he did, he turned around. "What is it, Mello?"

I replied, "Come with me. Need to show you something."

"And what would this be, Mello, that you desire to 'show' me?"

"That's a surprise, stupid."

"What sort of surprise?"

"Just a fucking surprise, alright?"

"...Mello. I should inform you now that I have no wish to see your-"

"Not _that_ sort of surprise, you twisted little shit!"

"No need for that sort of language."

I scowled darkly, trying to remove all trace of the picture Near had unwittingly given me from my head."Just hurry up and come with me. I don't want to be seen talking to you any more than I have to."

Near frowned. "Mello, in all honesty, I do not particularly want to accompany you. Let me ask you a simple question. Did you ever stop to think what _I_ might want?"

I stopped, and considered him for a moment. "No," I replied shortly, then turned on my heel and marched away.

He followed, of course.

So I locked him in an empty classroom.

Seriously, bitch tried to screw up my relationship.

Motherfucker's going down.

**Attempt #2**

Obviously, as I have reluctantly discovered over the course of this fortnight, it's not so easy to get rid of the gnat. Less than ten minutes after his desperate bid to make nice with me, he had picked the lock and tried to sneak off.

But he wasn't getting away from the Mellomeister that easy. Remember a couple of days ago, when I crashed into the statue of King Alfred on the stolen motorbike? And Roger tagged me with that tiny camera to stop me getting into any more trouble? Yeah, well, I've found out that Roger is a lazy bugger and gets little kids to do all the donkey work watching my arse all day. And I've also found out that said little kids are very easy to bribe if you have a certain amount of access to sugar, money, and gadgetry. Because gadgetry is cool.

Needless to say, Near now has a tiny camera attached to him, and I have both O and K under my employ.

I'm such a terrific role model for these children.

So, now I'm sitting on my bed with Matt's laptop on my thighs, watching Near's every move, munching chocolate, and stroking Matt's hair. He fell asleep beside me some time ago. Can't say I'm complaining. It's pretty damn cute.

As Near made a sharp turn out of one of the orphanage's school buildings, I snatched up the walkie-talkie lying on a nearby desk. As I said, gadgetry is cool.

"M to K. Do you read me, K?"

A few seconds later, my reply came. "K to M. I read you. Over."

"M to O, do you read?"

"O to M, read you loud and clear. Over."

"M to K, M to O." I narrowed my eyes like an insane cool spy boss as Near crossed the courtyard and headed for another of the buildings. Perfect. "The proof is about to enter the pudding. I repeat, the proof is about to enter the pudding. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." There was a brief pause. "So... what are we supposed to do again?"

I rolled my eyes, exasperated at the stupidity of these lower life forms. "Just get him with the straitjacket."

"Oh, yeah!"

Idiots.

Still, at least this meant I didn't have to move from my bed.

And they're better than I thought, you know. Within a couple of minutes (which I watched with entertainment from the laptop), the gnat was wrapped up in a straitjacket, gagged, and thrown back into the room he had previously made his escape from.

Disregard the constabulary.

However, now I positively had to get up, just so I could go downstairs and gloat at the gnat's predicament. If only I had a tiny microphone and speaker that could send my voice down there from here... But I love Matt to the extent that I'm actually not going to wake him up and force him to make one for me.

So off I went.

Of course, I should have known that he'd have escaped by the time I got down there.

How. The. Fuck.

This, I think, readers, is where desperation will begin to set in.

**Attempt #3**

My breath came harshly. Short, sharp gasps. Under my fingers, the gun trembled. The gun. The cold, loaded gun.

Near gazed at me blankly, knotting a strand of hair around his finger. "You aren't going to kill me with that, Mello."

Stupid gnat. "Oh yeah? And why not?" I growled, shoving it at his face. I was ready. I was armed. I wasn't holding back.

And he said, "Because that is a water pistol."

...Details.

**Attempt #4**

"Whatever, gnat," I said, flinging away the water pistol and frowning, observing him from the angle I was at. I had found him studying outside (which was weird anyway - no Wammy's kid is normal enough to enjoy the sunlight, but maybe he was trying to confuse me on purpose) under a tree, sitting beside the lake. The same lake, in fact, that I nearly drowned in several days ago.

Hmm.

That, dear readers, gives me a bright idea.

"Hey, gnat. Get up," I ordered.

He got up. Jeez, why does he even do what I say anymore? Considering his status as a genius, he should have realised by now that my commands rarely lead to a happy outcome for him.

Although, in fairness, he did say, "What torture are you hoping to inflict on me this time, Mello?" in a voice that would have seemed world-weary and worn, if it hadn't been him.

Nevertheless, I assumed my best 'wouldn't-hurt-a-fly' expression. I practice that one in the mirror. "What? Torture? _Me_? I just... um... wanted to see how much taller than you I am!"

I forced myself to go and stand next to him as though measuring our heights. Unpleasant memories from a couple of weeks ago concerning Linda screaming that I was molesting Near suddenly resurfaced with a vengeance, and it took most of my strength to stop myself from flinching back and shuddering.

"Really?" Near didn't look convinced.

"Really, gnat. I mean, honestly, does there have to be some dark ulterior motive to everything I do?"

"Yes."

I tipped my head. "Yeah, actually, you're right." And I gave him a sharp shove into the lake.

Heh. He's so funny when he's drowning.

He can't swim, of course. And his clothes (pyjamas?) drag him down.

He's drowning.

And he's drowning.

And... he's still drowning.

"M-Mello!" he choked out, before water filled his mouth and he went under. He resurfaced a few moments later, coughing and spluttering, water slicking his hair to a strange bluish.

...He's dying.

Fuck.

...Okay, readers. I am terribly embarrassed to admit that I actually did what I did next. Like... I don't even know what made me do it. Something stupid, no doubt. Something ridiculous.

But basically, to skip all the fanfare and shit, I jumped into the lake and pulled him out.

Absolutely fucking _ruined _my jeans, by the way.

When I had dragged him to the shore (and he's heavier than he looks, just to put that out there) we both lay there gasping for a few moments. The gnat expelled a frankly disgusting amount of lake water. Then he stood up, looked at me for a second, and bolted.

I lay there for a few moments more, trying to figure out what had just happened.

I'd saved Near's life. I'd been this close to beating him, and I'd saved the gnat's life.

Holy shit.

I'm going to have a serious chat with my conscience about getting involved where it's not wanted.

**Attempt #5**

Matt tells me I can't build a bonfire on the lawn in order to burn the gnat at the stake.

I'm running out of fucking time.

* * *

_Last chapter to come on New Year's Day!_


	14. Method 14: How to beat Near

_And so we come to the final chapter. Thank you to TragicAtBest13, SweetSoutTart, ChieLuvsBleach, Exploading albino potato, Bladefire Alchemist, and Imaginefun for reviewing. I don't own Death Note, of course. But this little fic has been a lot of fun to write :) I'll miss it._

_It's quarter past midnight here. Happy new year! I hope everyone has a fabulous 2013!_

* * *

**0 Days Until L Arrives**

**How to Beat Near**

* * *

Hey there, Mello. And, uh, Mello's imaginary friends. 'Readers'. Quote quote.

Matt here. Mello's busy drooling on L's lap right now, so I've taken the opportunity to steal his 'gnat-beating' diary from its hiding place (the one he still thinks no-one knows about... pfft) and record this final day.

I predicted that Mello would be in a really bitchy mood today, and in a really bitchy mood he is. Honestly, _I_ don't give a damn about L coming. He's just a guy. But over the past thirteen days, I've learnt several things about Mello. I've learnt that he cares about L's opinion even more than I thought, I've learnt that he hates Near even more than I thought, and most of all, I've learnt that he is more mentally damaged than I ever thought possible.

"Matt! Where's my hairbrush? You hid it, didn't you? You bastard! Why do you hate me so-"

"In your hand..."

"Matty, you beautiful human being, you!"

Fucking love him though.

Such is my life.

Whenever L comes to visit, it's generally a bad day for me. Mello's even more deranged than usual, Roger's uptight, Near won't say a word, and I only get to play a minimal amount of video games because, as one of the three smartest kids at Wammy's, I get shepherded around by L's side all day. What _fun_.

The names of the top three - the 'priviliged' three, the ones who actually get to see L - are read out at breakfast. It's not like it's any great surprise who it's gonna be, but there are still some poor kids, Mello included, who are on the edge of their seats.

Me. Mello. Near. Same as always.

Technically, we're supposed to dress up nicely to go and see L, but even Roger knows that Mello's the only one who follows this rule (and even then, 'dress up nicely' to him just translates directly to 'leather'... A little distracting to say the least). So up we get, the three of us; me reluctant, Near emotionless, Mello wearing the expression you'd expect if he'd just been asked to challenge me on Halo multiplayer. Roger beckoned frantically with his eyebrows flying all over the place and we were ushered into The Room.

I should take a moment to humour Mello's notion that some higher power might be reading this, and explain about The Room. The Room is a small chamber at Wammy's, away from the classrooms and dormitories, that's always kept locked except when L comes to visit. No one's allowed into The Room but us three and L. Even Roger and Wammy hesitate before setting foot there. What happens in The Room, in the least weird sense possible, stays in The Room.

It's all ridiculous if you ask me. I mean, I get why L needs to keep his identity secret, but seriously. He should maybe get out more.

Yes, I understand the hypocrisy of that statement coming from me. Shut up.

Mello, of course, was perfectly calm.

"Oh my gosh!" he squeaked, doing a very accurate impression of a thirteen-year-old girl. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! We're going to see L! _The_ L! The great L! The one whose approval we all strive for! Oh, I wonder if-"

"-he remembers me?" I mimicked under my breath. I had Mello's freak-out monologue word perfect by now. "I wonder if he'll speak to me? He's so amazing! Oh my gosh! Does my hair look okay? I've _got_ to be number one this time!"

Actually, that was a point. Even I was interested to find out who was number one this month. Not that it was ever anyone except Near, but Mello (and, inadvertently, I) had been through so much grief this fortnight trying to take him down a place that if Mello wasn't number one I was going to put my foot through someone's face.

"Well, Mello-kun, we shall soon see," said a soft voice as we entered the room. Mello uttered a little scream and probably would have fainted if he hadn't seen my deeply sceptical look.

"L!"

"Greetings, Mello-kun. Matt-kun. Near-kun." L nodded at each of us in turn. He looked just as freaky as I remembered, hair all over the place. And the eyes, the eyes had always scared me.

But before anyone else had a chance to speak, Mello just exploded. No other word for it.

"L! Oh my gosh, I have been absolutely _dying_ to see you! Have you solved any cases? Oh, no, don't worry, I know you're not allowed to say! Sometimes I just make up my own cases just so I can pretend I'm helping you solve them! L, L, did you hear how...?"

Definition of kiss-ass. Why am I dating this moron?

And it goes on. Jesus, my Mello goes batshit insane when L's around. I don't even recognise him, I swear.

What, so you're saying I'm jealous? Well, you'd be jealous too if your boyfriend was practically grinding the leg of another man. All I'm saying.

When Wammy finally managed to prise Mello away from L - who looked thoroughly blank, by the way (how dared he not care that he was being grinded by the sexiest guy alive?) - he cleared his throat. "Now, you three. As, uh, keen as you are to greet L, I'm sure that before we... before we release the cookies..." At this, he cast a nervous look behind him, where a bulging sack full of all variations of sugar imaginable lay. 'Releasing the cookies' was a Wammy's tradition that L had invented, which mainly involved the five of us watching L gorge himself on sweets under the feeble disguise of having morning tea together. "...before we release the cookies, you would all like to hear this month's rankings."

If Mello had been sitting up any straighter, he would have fallen over backwards. Even Near's eyes flickered up slightly as Wammy drew out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket-

WAIT!

Hang on, stop, hold _everything_. I've just realised the very real chance of Mello reading this. This _is_ his journal/diary/whatever, after all. So, I thought I'd just pause to inject this here.

I love you, Mello. Heart, soul, and mind, and shit. You're the Cortana to my John, the Ash to my Pikachu, the Link to my Zelda, the Luigi to my Mario. Chances are you won't understand any of those analogies, but I don't even care, 'cause I love you. And even if you had, say, done something really bad, I wouldn't hate you, or rip off your limbs, or anything. And you wouldn't do that to me either, right? Yeah... good.

Well, glad we cleared that one up. Back to the tale.

Wammy cleared his throat. "Third place..."

Everyone was looking at me. I wasn't really paying attention, but it was still a big shock to feel their eyes slide off me when Wammy read out a name that no one expected third place to belong to.

"Near."

Near gave a little jerk. I thought I saw a gleam of hurt on his face, but it vanished in a second and he gave a stiff nod.

Mello's mouth fell open. Then the realisation hit, and a slow grin started to spread across his face. "Fuuuuuuuuuck... yeeeeeeah..." he whispered with glee. His delight bubbled up into a cackle and he leapt triumphantly to his feet. "_Fuck_ yes! _Fucking yes_! I beat you, gnat! I'm number one! _Number one_! Take that, son-of-a-_bitch_! I WON!"

Near blinked, and I let myself breathe with relief. Angry Mello was never a good Mello.

But Wammy wasn't finished.

"Second place..." he said, "Mello. And first place this month is Matt! Congratulations."

The room went extremely quiet.

Hey, Mello... can I remind you again that I really do love you...?

"What?" All of Mello's happiness seemed to have been suddenly extinguished. "What? No. No, that must be wrong. I'm first. I must be first."

Wammy shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Mello. You're second, as usual."

Ouch. You want some ice for that burn?

Mello beat Near... but was still second place.

Now, at this point, what I should have done was solemnly apologise to Mello, promise to make it up to him, and then run for my life. That would have been the nice, intelligent, boyfriendly thing to do. It would have been better for Mello's ego, better for the atmosphere of this little get-together, and all in all better for the wellbeing of my face.

It sounds bad, but... I didn't. I couldn't help it. I started to smile.

"Shouldn't have assumed you could beat the _Matt_meister so easily, should ya, Mels?" I grinned, with a small snicker.

I guess all that time he invested trying to beat the gnat might have been better spent trying to beat the _Matt_. If you catch my drift.

...Oh, God, I'm so dead.

And that, my _dear __readers_... is how you beat Near and take over the world in thirteen days.


End file.
